Ain't That a Shame
by irkalia
Summary: In a post-apocalyptic future, a traveler forges her own path in the war-torn Mojave wastes while a sniper comes to terms with who he is. M for violence, language, dark stuff, being Fallout, etc. Eventual romance. Big emphasis on 'eventual'.
1. Over the Mountain, Across the Sea

Fallout: New Vegas and its content are the property of Bethesda.

Reviews and critiques are greatly appreciated!

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CHAPTER ONE: OVER THE MOUNTAIN, ACROSS THE SEA

* * *

The sunrise was unremarkable. Some mornings, the rays of light would send the sky into a frenzy of pink and blue. Today was bland. She had been told that she was a smart girl, but Ash could never quite figure out why some things were the way they were. Sunrises, for one. One morning it'd be the most colorful thing you could imagine, and then the next morning the dark would go into light and that was that. Must have to do with particles in the air. It never came up in the books she had read.

But at least there _was_ a sunrise, at least there was another day to come. The pale blue peeking out from the horizon served as a nice reminder that life went on, even after the horrors she had seen in Nipton. It seemed better to focus on sunrises and their pretty colors than to think about what she had witnessed. And like hell she was going to pay attention to how much her feet hurt or how hungry or parched or tired she was, not after she saw _that_. It was rude to the dead to complain about the minor inconveniences of life.

She had passed a ranger station a minute back, barely registering it until it was behind her, then figuring it could wait until she had gotten a couple hours of sleep. Soon the dinosaur of Novac loomed ahead. Goddamn, but the weirdest things survived the bombs. Cities lay in waste, houses got blown over, and then some shitty pre-war tyrannosaurus statue would stand high and proud for the whole world to see. Was it really built that sturdy? Pre-war folks sure were weird.

She reached the outskirts of the town without incident, other than stumbling over a crack in the road in a moment of careless exhaustion. A stubbed toe wasn't much compared to the dully aching gunshot wound in her arm; thankfully just a graze, but it had torn off some flesh. The Legionaries had shit aim. The dogs had done a number on her leg, though.

Nobody was awake yet, save for some older man staring at the wall of a building as she walked by. Best leave him be. She was about to enter what looked like the check-in room when she spotted another man, younger, walking to the dinosaur, a rifle on his back. She waved him down and ran – as best she could, anyway – over to him.

"Hey, you a guard here?"

* * *

The night had been dull. A radscorpion had skittered across his sights at one point, but other than that, nothing at all. Felt like that had been the way of things for a while now. Nothing at all.

A figure was slowly making its way toward town. Looked like it was limping as it got closer. But alone, and clearly not from the Legion, so Manny could deal with it. Boone swung his rifle over his shoulder and made his way down the stairs, then out the door of the dinosaur.

At first he didn't see Manny, for which he was a little grateful – not like he cared about the man's feelings, but it could be awkward, running into him between shifts. Then he heard him by the front gate. Past the dinosaur's tail, Manny and the limping visitor were talking. Boone wasn't sure he cared until he heard the newcomer say "Legion." Then he lingered.

"Nipton? Shit, I can't believe it."

"Yeah, killed most and crucified some." She sounded weary. Looked even worse. Bandaged arm, very bandaged leg, tired face. The leather she wore was dirty, bloodied in some spots. Sunglasses. Hat on her head, the kind that draped down to cover everything but the front. Revolver at her hip, rifle and a full rucksack on her back.

"Shit." Manny followed the girl's eyes over his shoulder to Boone, who shifted at the sudden attention. But he turned back to her. "Were there any survivors?"

She watched Boone for a few more seconds, her sunglasses blocking out most of her expression. Then she looked at Manny again. "Two. One of them barely. Got his legs beat in so bad he couldn't move. The other one ran outta town as I got there. They had some fucked up lottery to decide who would live." She shook her head.

"Anyone from the Legion still there?"

"I… yeah, yeah, a group of them."

"Where'd they head to?"

"Nowhere." When Manny didn't pick up on it, she continued. "I killed them. And some on the road here, too."

"_Shit_." His tone was a mix of awe and disbelief. "You with the NCR or something?"

She shook her head. "Just a courier."

"One hell of a courier. Thanks for bringing the news here, I'll spread it around."

She nodded. "Hey, there a doctor in town? I could really use one."

"Oh, yeah – come on, come with me."

Manny rested a hand on her shoulder and turned her back down the road. She glanced at Boone again before putting her full concentration on the walk in front of her. She hid it well, the pain. Nobody limped like that from a light scrape.

He watched them for a while longer then returned to his room, locking the door behind him. The days had been reduced to that lately. Room, dinosaur, room, rinse, repeat. He wasn't quite sure where the time went. He didn't sleep it away. Didn't eat much. Didn't go out. Been a long time since he even walked past the gate to town. He laid his gun down on the table, closed his eyes, and breathed in heavily. He liked to think the room still smelled like Carla but he knew it didn't. It was stale, stuffy. Dark. He set his sunglasses on the nightstand and sat on the bed to unlace his boots, then laid on his back and stared at the ceiling. Nearly had all the cracks memorized by now.


	2. There's a Moon Out Tonight

CHAPTER TWO: THERE'S A MOON OUT TONIGHT

* * *

Ash grimaced and hissed as the doctor peeled back her pant leg. She glanced down and immediately regretted it; the blood probably wasn't supposed to be that color. She tilted her head back and let the sky blind her a little. Anything beat looking at that mess down there.

"Well it's not the _worst_ I've ever seen, but it sure ain't pretty," said the doctor, prodding at the wounds none too gently. Her bodyguards were looking elsewhere. Anywhere. Ash didn't blame them. "I can fix it up." A slight pause. "As long as you have the caps."

"Yeah, yeah, plenty, just do it already." The stool she was sitting on was already making her ass fall asleep. At least it was a distraction from the deep throbbing in her leg. "I'll even pay extra for meds. More the better."

"Oh, well, in that case… Uh, let me go find my things. I'll be right back. You stay put now." She stood and scurried off somewhere. The two bodyguards watched her go and then turned to Ash, sharing a mixed look of worry and pity. The doctor came back shortly, a large brown bag in her arms, miscellaneous medical tools sticking out from the top. The lot of it didn't look particularly clean. The bodyguards looked away again.

"This shouldn't take too long. I mean, it's only some dog bites. Not like I'm doing brain surgery here!" She laughed. Ash smiled weakly. "We should get you leaned back on something so you're more comfortable. Gotta prop your leg up, too. Boys, help me out here, will you? I'm not paying you for nothing."

The younger of the two muttered something under his breath but the doctor didn't notice. Ash leaned on them while she repositioned herself, back against the large countertop in the cloth tent. She said her thanks and they nodded to her. Within a few minutes, the drugs were working their way through her system. The quick jab of a needle in her thigh had come as a jolting surprise, but that was for the best; shots had never been her favorite thing in the world. She leaned her head back and admired the view of the fabric above her, the sunlight mottled overhead, patchy clouds hidden by the worn tan cloth. Guess they all couldn't be like Doc Mitchell.

* * *

The thin crescent moon was at its peak in the sky and tonight's watch was well on its way to being another mind-numbing one. Not that he was wishing for a crew of Vipers to show up and try to raid the place. He'd give for a Legionary or two to wander by. Not that they ever traveled in so small a number.

Movement caught in the corner of Boone's eye and he peered over the dinosaur's teeth. The visitor was walking down the road. Still limping, but not as bad. Bandages on her arm and leg looked different. She went straight for the McBride house. Had she talked to them about their nighttime troubles? Must've. No other reason to go there at this hour. He had heard gunfire there around midnight a few times but had never seen anything, even on the clearest nights. They hadn't bothered to ask him about it anyway. Their problem.

He lost sight of her in the dark – it was hazy out tonight – but soon heard gentle clanging in that direction. Climbing on their roof? He listened closely but nothing was going on, so he turned his attention back to the wastes. Nothing was going on out there either. His mind drifted elsewhere, to his service, to the ridge, and of course to _her_, and just as his thoughts began to get dangerous, the sharp crack of a rifle jolted him to reality once more, where for once, something more than nothing was happening.

Another shot, from the same spot, the McBride house. He raised his rifle up and looked through the scope but could only make out shapes moving in the dark. The startled brahmin. The visitor's form crouched up on the roof. And something big and hulking that he was damn sure he would've noticed before but there it was, hunched over and clearly not keen on being shot at. He could take a shot – hard to miss something that size – but in the time he took to consider it, a few more shots rang out, this time from a pistol. Magnum. She must've hit it hard because whatever it was fell to the ground. He kept his sights on her long enough to watch her slide down from the rooftop, not exactly landing with the most grace, but more steadily than most would be able to manage, even without a bum leg. Their shadowy forms melded together for a minute. Searching the body. He lowered his rifle when she stood.

She was walking to the gate when she came into view again, reloading her revolver, then easing it back into the holster at her hip. She might've looked up at him in the dinosaur, or at the moon, he couldn't tell. In the light of Jeannie May's office, she pulled a slip of paper from her pocket, unfolded it, and read. Either it was long or illegible or she was a slow reader. She crumpled it and stuffed it back in her pocket, then pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one. It was late, but he could understand why she hadn't gone straight back to her room. Maybe a couple others would know, too – Manny, Ranger Andy – but most people here never had to deal with that rush of adrenaline you'd get after a kill.

He watched the wastes again while she smoked. Still nothing. He wasn't exhausted, but not energized either, hadn't been for a long time. The cold night air kept him alert, at least. And with the late watch he never had to interact with anybody. Didn't care much for anybody around here. _She_ was somehow interesting, though. Maybe because he didn't know a thing about her, or because she hadn't bothered him yet, and he appreciated that. Or because she killed Legionaries. That took at least an ounce of courage, or stupidity, or a mix. Plenty talked about how bad Caesar was but someone actually taking a stand, especially without orders to do so, _that_ was rare.

She dropped the cigarette onto the ground and stamped it out with her heel. She looked up like she had before, and this time he was sure she was looking at him. Her head cocked a little, but she didn't linger, and through the gate she went, out of sight.


	3. Just a Dream

I swear the two main characters will meet each other one of these days.

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CHAPTER THREE: JUST A DREAM

* * *

Manny was difficult. She couldn't really blame him – getting anyone to give up information for free was just about impossible. But it was still frustrating. They had gotten along cheerily enough but the second she brought up the man in the checkered suit, he was all business. Clear out some feral ghouls? Oh, sure, Manny, it's not as if she was intensely creeped out by them or anything. It was likely that she could've found the answer in other ways, but sneaking around Novac wasn't as simple as slipping into the houses in Goodsprings to 'borrow' supplies. Gotta do things the honest way sometimes.

She pulled the trigger of her hunting rifle. The crack was sharp but satisfying to her ears. The last ghoul fell to the ground with a soft thud, its head no longer quite on its body. She crept down slowly from her perch up on some rocks and walked to the corpses. A couple caps on them, barely worth the trouble of pulling them out of pockets of clothes that were melded to sickly flesh. Then a body she hadn't killed, a ghoul wearing a thick brown robe. Hadn't she seen one of those under the bridge by Sloan? This one had a laser pistol, which she stuffed into her belt. Energy weapons weren't her thing but they sold well.

A soft shuffling noise touched her ears and she immediately crouched low to the ground, rifle raised. Through the chain link fence up the stairs she could see them, two that she had missed. But they hadn't noticed her yet, and with two quick shots she dispatched them. She shivered. God, she hated ferals.

Ash walked carefully, almost painfully slowly up the steps, hands clamped on her rifle. The building was in surprisingly good shape, but she supposed it made sense; it was a military facility. Wasn't it? Close enough to count, anyway. She didn't see anything else notable outside so she swung her rifle over her shoulder, drew Lucky from her hip, and pushed the door open gently. It didn't creak. She wasn't sure if that was promising or eerie.

The air inside smelled like death. It was stale and sickly and strangely hot, as if whatever bodies within were warming the interior. The floors were grimy but not unused. Somehow the lights still functioned, albeit poorly. They flickered and buzzed overhead. The door closed behind her with a click. Her skin crawled, and it didn't have anything to do with radiation.

She stood for a minute at the door, listening, waiting for her heartbeat to slow. In the back of her mind, she hoped that maybe, just _maybe_ Manny's feral ghoul problem only involved the ones outside. Maybe those were the only ones here at all, and this place was a big empty shell with nothing of interest other than a giant crate of caps right behind the front desk, and she could grab it and walk out like nothing happened. But it was never that easy. The lights stopped humming and then the room went black. The hair on the back of her neck stood. She raised Lucky up in both hands. A second later and the lights murmured and flicked back on and a deformed figure stood behind the desk. She fired. It fell. Her heart was in her throat.

Ash took a step into the lobby and another feral stepped through the door to the left, drawn in by the gunshot. This one took two bullets to send down. Shakily, she reloaded, but nearly dropped a bullet when a voice crackled in greeting next to her. Calm down, girl. Only the intercom. She really wasn't cut out for this close-up silent foe shit. She breathed in deeply to regain her composure, then pressed a finger to the 'talk' button and whispered, "Hello?"

The voice was raspy. "Hey, smoothskin. Go to the big set of stairs on the right side of the building. Be careful, it's dangerous." No shit, she thought, eyeing the body of her most recent kill. "And hurry."

When in doubt, Ash generally didn't follow the advice of mysterious voices, but there was a first time for everything. And if the owner of said voice had seen her enter, he must have had security cameras set up. At least it was a well-prepared mysterious voice. Too bad he couldn't have offered her any more help. She stepped away from the small speaker and slid to the other side of the lobby, peering through the opposite door to be sure that nothing would sneak up on her from behind. Satisfied that it was clear, she glanced around the corner. Another two ferals – what, did they travel in pairs now? Using the doorframe as a hand rest, she took both out. Lucky wasn't exactly a quiet gun to begin with, but the hallways here seemed to amplify things. The shots echoed in her ears as she crept down the hall. At least her leg was almost healed up now.

A few ferals later and she found herself in a room full of desks and filing cabinets. The entries on the computers would have to wait. She had an odd interest – or at least she assumed it was odd, since she didn't know of anyone else who took such pleasure in it – of reading notes left behind before the war. They could be absolutely fascinating sometimes. Even the seemingly dull ones like grocery lists or errands. And here lay a veritable treasure trove of functioning computers, ripe for the picking. But there were still a lot of things to kill. She'd come back after.

She was in the middle of a staircase when the lights went silent again. By the time they turned off, she was hugged to the side of the stairwell, ears straining to listen for something, anything. But she didn't need to hear this one's approach; it glowed a bright green on the floor above, and when it came into view it was an easy shot. The lights buzzed on again as she was wiping some of its goo off of her arm. Through the ringing in her ears she heard a faint footfall behind her and turned to find a feral charging at her, arms in the air and mouth wide and hungry. She barely got Lucky up in time to take the shot, and it fell limp at her feet, its last breath a harsh rattle. She gagged. This close, they smelled worse than they looked.

The lights stayed on for the rest of her journey, for which she was immensely grateful, and there were no more close calls. She valued stealth in her own tactics but couldn't stand when anything surprised her. She was too easily startled. Not that she'd ever admit that to anyone. Confidence was just as necessary as food and fresh water when it came to surviving the wastes. She couldn't help but be caught off guard, though, when the raspy-voiced ghoul at her final destination turned out to be a skinny bearded in a lab coat.

"Good, you made it here alive. Not bad for a smoothskin. Now, we've got a job for you."

Ash opened her mouth to say one of many possible things but decided against all of them before any words escaped. Best let it be. She ran a hand over her face. Fuck Manny and his feral problem. For all of this, he had better have the man in the checkered coat tied up on a silver platter for her when she got back.

* * *

Boone stared at the scratched-up label on the whiskey bottle in his hands. He wasn't thinking at all about drinking. That would be irresponsible right now, even if there were a couple hours before his shift started. It was empty anyway. No, he stared at it because there wasn't much else to look at in his room but it. The sweeping lines. The soft edges, worn away from so much time spent in his palms. The name was nearly rubbed out. It was one of the last things he and Carla had shared. He set it back on the table and rubbed his eyes. His stomach growled. He hadn't eaten yet today. He forgot to. There was no use checking the fridge, it was empty. He sighed and pulled his boots on. Laced them tightly. Beret. Sunglasses. Rifle. Even though he wasn't on duty yet. Didn't matter to him.

Nobody looked at him as he made his way to the store, or at least they didn't when he could see him. He didn't care. It felt strange to be out in the sunlight like this, and he could never tell if it was a bad feeling or a good one. And it was always so hot during the day. He liked the cold night air more.

Cliff was leaning on the counter, focused on the dinosaur toys, one in each hand, dueling. He dropped them by the cash register and stood straight as Boone entered. Any embarrassment was immediately forgotten, and the shopkeeper smiled warmly and waved. "Good to see you again, Boone. What'll it be this time?"

Boone always got the same things, so he simply nodded and grabbed what he needed from the shelves. Out of everyone in Novac, Cliff and Andy were only ones who still tried to make small talk with him. When it didn't annoy him, Boone almost found it endearing. Almost.

"Say, you meet the visitor yet?"

"No, I haven't." He set his provisions on the countertop.

Cliff didn't make a move to tally them just yet. "That's too bad. Sweet girl, real nice. Calls herself Ash. Got herself a room up on the second floor. Showed up in town and started running errands for folks the minute after she got a bite to eat." When Boone didn't return the chatter, Cliff began bagging the items. "Think she went out doing something for Manny yesterday."

"That so?"

"Yeah, he mentioned it when he came in this morning. He told her about the ghoul problem in that place up there," he gestured aimlessly with one hand, "And right away she said sure, she'd handle it. Real nice girl."

Boone nodded. Nobody would agree to go up there out of the sheer kindness of their heart. But what the hell did she want from Manny? He slid a small pile of caps over to Cliff, took the bag, and said goodbye. And then the ground rumbled.

They looked at each other, both confused, then rushed outside together. Seemed like everyone was out there already, eyes fixed to the west. Some faint, constant sound was coming from over there, near the test facility. Or from it. Hot light shown in the sky right above it, then smoke, and then… missiles? No, rockets. Three of them shot up in near unison, thick smoke trailing behind. No one spoke. The rockets went up, up, up, then curved with the roundness of the earth. Then they were gone.

Cliff spoke next to him, voice full of wonder. "I'll be damned." Boone nodded in agreement.


	4. Young Blood

I'll be switching the rating to M next chapter for violence and all that fun stuff.

Everyone enjoying the story so far? If you have any comments or criticisms, I'd love to hear them. :) Oh, and following F:NV's quest naming convention, I'm giving each chapter a song for a title. Check them out on YouTube if you aren't familiar with them.

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CHAPTER FOUR: YOUNG BLOOD

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It was late by the time Ash arrived back in town. She had watched the rockets launch, the deafening growl of their engines mixed with some fantastic orchestra from the pre-war world. She gazed at the sky long after their smoke trails faded away, past the brilliant red-hot sunset, until the stars shone clear in the deep blue-black. The Great Beyond, Jason had called it. She wondered how they would do all the way up there. How it must feel to touch the sky.

With the ferals dead, the ghouls skybound, and the nightkin gone with their shipment of stealth boys, the REPCONN building was open ground. She searched it top to bottom to her heart's content, salvaging as much as she could find. When she took a break from looting, she devoured brahmin jerky and read through all of the console entries in the offices. Delicious, juicy gossip. People could see the pre-war era as one of purity and moral good, but notes like those proved that human behavior never changed. It was almost comforting to know.

Pack brimming with scavenged goods and head heavy with fatigue, she made for Novac. The night sniper, the one person she hadn't met yet, was up in the dinosaur, and she could feel his eyes on her as she walked into town. She went straight for her room, locking the door behind her, dropping her bag with a heavy thud, setting her guns on the stand with the television set. Why was that thing even _there_, anyway? The bed was calling to her but the bathroom was her destination, and she stripped on the way there. She'd clean her clothes tomorrow. Right now she needed to clean herself. The bathwater was lukewarm but it served its purpose well enough. By the time she got out, the water contained all the grime that had been on her. Almost two days' worth. It wasn't pretty. She toweled herself off and raked her fingers through her dark hair in front of the chipped mirror. She touched the scar by her temple. Her brows narrowed. God, but she looked like shit. Sleep deprivation didn't do anyone good.

She was gone to the world the second she hit the mattress.

* * *

Another night, another shift. Boone was feeling restless so he headed to the dinosaur earlier than usual. He had done it before. Manny would leave silently, no questions. They had been good friends once. Things changed fast. They hadn't spoken in a long time.

Cliff was in the storeroom when he entered the shop, so Boone didn't have to deal with _that_, at least. He took the stairs two at a time and pulled the door open and _dammit_, he should've held off on duty until it was really his time. Manny looked at him nervously. The visitor barely acknowledged the intrusion, eyes focused hard on Manny. The nest seemed tense, and suddenly very crowded. But Boone wasn't one to back down to social convention and excuse himself. He crossed his arms and leaned on the doorframe.

"Boulder City? That's _all_ you know?" Her voice was steady but firm. For someone so short, she had an air of authority.

Manny rubbed his fingers together. Old nervous habit. Gave away any of his efforts to look calm, at least to Boone. "Hey, look, I said I'd help you if you helped me."

"And you don't know _anything_ else?"

"Hey, I never said I knew exactly where Benny was, just where he was headed. I… I gotta run. I'll see you around." Before she could respond, he brushed by Boone and quickly descended the stairs.

Boone stepped fully into the nest, not bothering to close the door. Figured she'd leave soon enough. The visitor leaned her side against the wall and rubbed her brow. A few seconds of silence passed before she pulled a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from her pocket. Her voice was softer now. "You smoke?"

"No." A lie.

She shrugged and lit her cigarette. The flame sent a brief warm glow over her face. A few draws later and he realized she wasn't about to leave, so he shut the door and scanned the waste for anything interesting. Nothing but the sun, slowly dropping behind the landscape.

She broke the silence again. "You must be Boone." When he turned to affirm it, her hand was outstretched. Touch wasn't his thing but she looked determined. He shook. Her grip was strong. "I'm Ash."

She was small. Looked young, early twenties, maybe a couple years younger than him. Her hair was all covered by her hat, but her eyebrows were black. Tan skin, probably Hispanic, but her eyes were blue. Very blue. Must've had a thing for leather because she was nearly covered in it head to toe. Fit, attractive. Surprising that she was running around the desert shooting things rather than doing… anything else, really. Her rifle wasn't on her but the white-handled revolver was still at her hip.

"You out here all night?"

"Yeah."

"Dull, isn't it?"

"It's… You should probably go."

She cocked her brow. "Excuse me?"

"I said, you should go."

"Manny doesn't have a problem with me up here."

"Yeah, well. I'm not Manny."

Laughter wasn't the response he expected to that, but there it was, a sharp bark and a white-toothed grin. Since when did he make anyone laugh? "God, I fucking hope not. He's a piece of shit." Maybe she wasn't so bad. She took a draw from her cigarette and breathed the smoke out slowly. He didn't say anything. She sighed and stamped the ashen end out on one of the dinosaur's teeth, then tossed it over the edge. "Fine, I'll get out of your way."

Her hand was on the door handle by the time he turned around. "No. No, wait. Maybe you should stay."

She paused and looked over her shoulder. "What, you gonna start talking my ear off or something?" A hint of a smile tugged at her lips.

"No, I… when you came to town you said you killed Legionaries in Nipton?"

"Yeah, that's right."

"And you're not from around here. Maybe I can trust you."

Her brow furrowed. "This isn't gonna be another case of clearing out an entire population of feral ghouls, is it? 'Cause I'm about done with that for now."

"No, nothing like that." He breathed heavy. "My wife. She was taken by the Legion."

"Oh." Her face softened. "I'm so sorry. You need help going after her?"

"No. Carla's dead. I need to find out who did it. Who gave them the details. She was the only one taken. Nobody else got touched. Nobody else even saw them. They knew exactly where to go. Somebody here has blood on their hands and I need to find out who."

"Of course. I can do that." She looked concerned, but she didn't have that pitying expression everyone else put on around him. "And when I figure it out?" When, not if. He liked that.

"Be sure about it, about who it is. Bring them out front." He jerked his thumb behind him, out to the rocky area in front of the dinosaur. Then he reached up to take his beret off. "Stand by them and hold this up in the air. I'll take care of it from there."

She nodded and held her hand out for the beret. He handed it over, shifting uneasily. Why was he doing this again? Right. Desperation. She took it, unzipped her gray-black jacket, and tucked it gently between the leather and the greenish tank top underneath. He noticed a scar there. Long and thin, below her right clavicle. Not a knife wound, but a burn, a branding mark. She closed her jacket and it was gone. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but turned to the door again.

"Wait. One more thing."

"Hm?" She glanced back at him.

"Don't let anything happen to my beret."


	5. Little Star

Thanks to everyone who's favorited, alerted, and reviewed so far! You guys keep me writing. Transitioned over to M in this chapter since it's not just feral ghouls who are getting killed anymore.

* * *

CHAPTER FIVE: LITTLE STAR

* * *

For someone with severe brain damage, No-Bark was extremely helpful. Maybe he wasn't the most direct – invisible chupacabras were slightly different than nightkin, at least from what little she remembered from that one book – but the clues hidden within his long ramblings were useful. And he was interesting to listen to, once she realized he was relatively harmless.

Ash had questioned everyone in town about Carla's disappearance. Subtly, of course. Asking about it straight would get people thinking, so she snuck it into normal conversations. Weather, current events, bitter sniper's dead wife. Not too difficult. What _was_ difficult was getting a decent answer out of anyone. They gave detailed descriptions of her personality, and from what she gathered, Boone's wife hadn't been the most pleasant person in Novac. But that was hardly reason to sell her to the Legion. No, no, there was never a reason for that. Never.

With nobody else left to ask, she went to No-Bark. She wasn't sure what do expect, but in the back of her mind there was a flicker of hope. He had seen the nightkin when no one else had, maybe he had seen something here, too. And he didn't disappoint. In between the crazy incoherence was one sentence that shone brighter than the sun: "One of 'em walked over into the lobby, might've had to take a piss."

She left No-Bark to stare at his favorite spot on the wall. Jeannie May would still be in the office at this point, no sense in barging in right now. She went to her room instead, pulling off her hat upon entry, followed closely by her jacket. She set the beret on the table, grabbed a piece of Ruby Nash's casserole from the fridge, flicked the radio on, and sat down to enjoy her meal. It was delicious even cold, and it sure beat the pre-war shit some people still ate. That stuff _might_ be edible, but people raised brahmin and bighorners for a reason. She examined the beret: still rich red despite long-time wear. Had a distinct smell to it – so what if she sniffed at things? – of perspiration and fresh air and distantly of whiskey and good cigars. The Last Thing You Never See, it said. She smiled. She had never seriously considered joining up, but that sounded like her kind of group.

Midnight rolled around none too quickly, but she wanted to be sure the lobby was empty. It was, and the safe behind the counter was easy to pick. The note within told her everything she needed to know. Jeannie May Crawford had seemed sweet enough, hiding whatever evils she had underneath the sugar. Why exactly she did it was unclear. But even without a motive, it was obvious that she deserved the fate Boone had it store for her.

Ash folded the note and hurried over to the Crawford house. She rapped quickly on Jeannie May's front door. Had to make it seem urgent. The door cracked open after a moment. The older woman had dark circles under her eyes, but she was dressed. "Yes?"

Ash had put on her best concerned face. "I'm so sorry to disturb you this late, ma'am, but there's something out here I think you should see." It wasn't that she _liked_ to manipulate people, but sometimes it was necessary. It wasn't so hard to do here now that everyone trusted her completely. And, okay, maybe she did like it a little.

"All right then, lead the way." She sounded weary. They were always so much easier to fool when barely awake.

"Hurry, if you could." Ash set a brisk pace, which Jeannie May had no trouble keeping. When they neared the spot Boone had specified, Ash frowned. "Strange. I swear it was right there."

Jeannie May stepped onto the rocks and peered through the darkness. "Well, I can't see anything, dearie. What was it you called me out here for, anyway?"

Behind her, Ash stretched her arm up to the starry sky, beret clutched in her hand, red against the black night. "Guess it wasn't so important, after all."

As the woman turned back to her, the shot sounded and her head became far less recognizable. Ash winced when a few drops of hot blood splattered across her cheek. The body slumped to the ground. She put the beret in her jacket and bent down to drag the body further from the dinosaur. No use in letting there be any suspicion whatsoever. Every foot away from town meant it was more and more likely that people would assume raiders, slavers, Legionaries, anything. Anything but Boone.

* * *

His aim was true. As always. He waited until the body was on the ground before he eased the scope away from his eye. He still watched the visitor, though, as she pulled Jeannie May away. He never would have thought it was her. Manny, more like it; he had always been the most vocal about Carla. Not the Crawford woman. But no use thinking about it anymore. It was done. As long as she had proof, he'd be happy. Well, happy wasn't the right word for it.

She disappeared from sight by the gate and a minute later the visitor was opening the door. Ash? Right, her name was Ash. Her hands were stuffed in her pockets. She waited for him to speak. He lowered his rifle to his side.

"Didn't expect her. How'd you know?"

"Oh." She pulled a neatly folded note out of her pocket and handed it over with his beret. "I found this in her safe in the lobby."

He took them from her and turned away, facing the wastes while he read. Of course they'd keep paperwork like this, but it stung deep to read it, about Carla, about the baby. He closed his eyes hard in an effort to block it out again. When he was sure he looked as emotionless as possible, he turned around to face Ash. She was gone. He crumpled the note and leaned his shoulder against the wall and held his head in his hands.


	6. Runaway

CHAPTER SIX: RUNAWAY

* * *

The heat was unbearable, and it wasn't even noon yet. She gave up on wearing her jacket – she wasn't going that far, after all – and opted for a t-shirt with a neckline high enough to cover the scar on her chest. The hat went on too for the same self-conscious reason, despite the boiling air. She wasn't used to the mark on her temple yet. And the burn… that one had been there for years, but it rarely saw daylight. No need to expose it now. Even less need to explain it.

Sun scorching overhead, she knocked softly on the door to Boone's room. Or at least she assumed it was his, since she had never seen anyone come out of it. Nobody answered. She knocked again, harder this time. She hadn't wanted to wait any longer to check in on him, in case he had hung himself or overdosed or something. He seemed like the type.

The doorknob turned. A very thin crack appeared. It was too dark inside to make anything out. She leaned in close. "Hey. It's me, Ash. Can I come in?"

The door opened all the way and she entered. Boone stepped aside to let her in, then closed the door behind her. It was dim. The thick curtains were pulled shut so barely any thin slivers of light came in from the window, and the only lamp in the room was a small one on the table. It smelled… not bad, but stale. Dusty, almost, like it never got fresh air. And not exactly messy, but not the picture of cleanliness. Bottles of booze at varying levels of fullness were the only decoration, if you could call it that. The bed, however, was neatly made.

Boone shifted next to her. "You wanted something?"

"What? Oh, no. No, I wanted to see how you were holding up."

"Fine. I'm fine." Boone walked past her to the table. He was wearing his beret again, and a different shirt, but his boots were off, over by the bed, and for the first time his eyes weren't covered by sunglasses. Something by his neck glinted as he moved, and then it was under his shirt again. A necklace? Dogtags, probably. She hadn't noticed them before. "Thank you for doing that," he said as he picked up a brown bag. It jingled softly. Caps. "Wanted to give these to you last night but you left."

She shook her head. "You keep them. Trust me, I don't need it." He nodded and dropped it back onto the table. After a few seconds of silence, she tapped two fingers against her lips and spoke. "Alice McBride found the body this morning. I took everything of worth off of Jeannie May last night so everyone's thinking it was a Viper or a Jackal that did it."

His brows rose. Had he thought she wouldn't cover up for him? "Good, good."

"So. What are you going to do now?"

"Don't know. Haven't given it much thought." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I'll leave. Maybe wander."

"Yeah? Not a bad idea. You'd do well outside of a town, I think." It wasn't the best word choice, but she didn't realize that until it was already out. He cocked his head a few degrees to one side but didn't respond, so she continued. She felt like an idiot for even considering the idea, but it was worth a shot. "You could come with me, you know."

His reply came after brief hesitation. "I don't know if that's such a good idea."

"Call me crazy, but I think you could use some time away from here."

"Maybe."

"And snipers work together in pairs, don't they?"

He snorted quietly. "You're a sniper?"

That grated on her, but she kept it from showing. "Maybe if I had a scope, sure. So, what do you say?"

"I don't know. Where are you going?"

"New Vegas eventually. Not in any rush."

"I'll think about it."

"You know, you're real good at being vague." She smiled in the hope that he would, too. He didn't. Her smile waned. "Look, I'm trying to give you an escape route out of here. Take it or leave it, but I'm not staying much longer. I'm heading out this afternoon. When you make up your mind, come by my room. Second floor on the other end. Okay?"

He nodded.

She let herself out.

* * *

Boone sat on the edge of his bed, his old NCR pack in his lap, empty for now. Was this a good idea? No. But it was the only thing he could do, unless he decided to run off into the wasteland on his own. And he didn't really want to do that, now right now. Only if she got on his nerves. He didn't even know that much about her – her name was Ash, she was young, traveling alone, liked guns, thought herself a sharpshooter. Hadn't she said she was a courier, when he first saw her in town talking to Manny? Didn't look or act like anyone from the Mojave Express who came into Novac. And she had said she was in no rush to get to New Vegas. What was she doing, then?

He was on his feet soon, setting things in his bag. It had been a long time since he had gone away like this, but he was packing just like he had back in 1st Recon. Clothes rolled up tightly to take up less room. Spare beret. Ammo easy to get at. Food and water closest to the straps so the weight would be against his back. With his rifle over his shoulder and his machete in a sheath on his belt, he left, locking the door behind him. The air was dry and hot. No one was around that he could see. Probably all mourning Crawford. At least they wouldn't be around to give him half-hearted goodbyes.

He knocked on her door. After a second, Ash opened it and ushered him inside. It was neat. Smelled clean. The radio on the bedside table was on, a tune ending. The dresser at the far end had its drawers pulled out; it looked almost empty from where Boone was standing. Her bag was on the edge of the bed, half-stuffed. The sheets were tidily made. She shut the door behind him.

"Good to see you. Have a seat, I'm almost finished. You want anything to drink?"

He sat on the couch. "Sure. Water. Thanks."

She nodded, grabbed a glass by the fridge, and went into the bathroom. The running faucet competed for dominance over Mr. New Vegas's voice. Her guns were on the bed by her pack: a hunting rifle, much like his own but without a scope, and that ivory-handled revolver he had seen on her hip. If he knew guns – and he did – he'd say it was a damn fine one. Probably old world, custom-made. Something on the grip caught his eye, which on closer inspection turned out to be a black club, the kind you'd see in a deck of cards. The rest of the gun was dark, almost black, with intricate gold etching. Near-perfect condition. Looked very expensive.

"She's pretty, huh?" He startled a little. He hadn't heard Ash approach but she was standing on the other side of the bed with a full glass of water. She walked to him, arm outstretched with the cup. "Her name's Lucky."

He took the glass and sipped. It washed away the heat. "Good gun. Where'd you buy it?"

"Didn't. I found it when I was in Primm." She picked it up off the bed, cradling it gently in her hands for a moment before tucking it into its holster.

"Primm? Last I heard it was overrun with convicts. The NCR get that place under control?"

"No, they couldn't do anything with the numbers they had." She closed her backpack up and pulled it on over her jacket, then considered him for a moment. "You don't listen to the radio much, do you?"

"Not really, no."

"That explains it. Mr. New Vegas has been talking about the new sheriff there for a couple days now."

He drained the rest of the glass. He stood to put it where she had taken it from, but she held out her hand. "Oh. Thanks." She walked over to set it down, then came back for her rifle.

"You ready to go?"

He nodded.

"Let's do this, then." She smiled at him and pulled a pair of sunglasses out from inside her jacket. She flicked the lights off and they headed outside. With the door locked, she put the glasses on. Aviators, he thought that style was called. Like his own but impossible to see through. They made their way down the stairs and out the gate. "They're all at Jeannie May's house so we should be good to leave without any questions. I already let them know I was going today, and I told Manny you probably wouldn't have the night watch anymore."

"You didn't have to do that."

"I like to tie up loose ends. Hey, no, this way." She jerked her thumb in the opposite direction when he started to walk north. "I have to go back to the NCR outpost. We can sleep there tonight, then move on. Sound good?"

He nodded.

"Anyway, like I was saying, I don't risk leaving anything open. If you walked off without notice people might get concerned. Or they might suspect something."

"Don't expect to come back here, not for the long term."

"Most people don't expect a lot of what life throws their way." She shrugged. "Better safe than sorry."

"If you say so."

As he had intended it, that line put an end to their conversation. She eventually took the lead rather than walk by his side. Her limp was gone. She kept a good, fast pace, which he appreciated. They were out of town soon, and he glanced back to check the departing view of the dinosaur. He had never thought about leaving. First because he had wanted to raise a family with Carla. Have a child or two or three. Grow old with her. And after she was gone, all of those dreams went with her. And then he wasn't sure what he thought was going to happen. That he'd erode over the years into nothing, maybe. That the Legion would get close enough to justify a suicide run. Anything. But definitely not walking out of town with a young woman with a fancy revolver. Maybe she was right. He hadn't expected this at all.


	7. Earth Angel

CHAPTER SEVEN: EARTH ANGEL

* * *

The bodies had begun to rot in Nipton. The fires had died off but even the heavy smell of smoke that was left in their wake did nothing to stamp out the stench of the dead. It was overwhelming. Ash covered her mouth with one hand as they drew nearer to the center of town, where the pyre had been. In her other hand, she held Lucky at the ready. She had cleared it out completely when she passed through days before, but there was no telling who or what could've shown up in the meantime. Powder Gangers, to reclaim their lost. Legionaries, to find out what had become of their men here. Or scavengers, human or animal, come to strip whatever little the town had left to offer up.

But it was empty, as empty as she had left it save for a scattering of crows picking at the dead. And there were plenty of dead. She glanced back at Boone, but his expression was impossible to read. So she continued on, turning right onto the main street. The legionaries still remained where she had shot them down, along with their dogs, and their wolf-helmed leader. The late afternoon sun drew the shadows of the crosses out long, over their bodies and those of the Powder Gangers. The earth was splattered with blood, dried now into a dark red-brown crust. The crows cawed at her and flew up as she walked near, wings rustling in the still air. And then it was silent again. She squatted to pull the helmet from Vulpes's head. The smell was even worse down at their level, but she wanted something to show Ghost at the Mojave Outpost. Into her pack it went. She tried not to look at his face, his lifeless eyes, but it was hard to avoid.

Boone was the one to break the silence. "Did you shoot them?"

When she rose and turned, he was looking at the Powder Gangers on either side of the road. The ones she had _needed_ to end. She swallowed and nodded. "They were crucified and left up to die. After I dealt with the legionaries I tried to bring them down, but there was no way to, not without…" She shook her head. "I don't agree with the Powder Gangers and their way of doing things, but I didn't want to leave them there like that. Nobody deserves it." But it still haunted her, the noise of their agony, the sound of their dying breath. The way they had used their last beat of life to open their eyes and gaze at her like she was some angel of mercy.

His jaw tensed but he only nodded. He walked closer to scan over the legionaries' bodies. "Wish I could've been here to help with _these_." He nudged Vulpes's rigid form with his boot. "They attack you when they spotted you?"

"No. He talked to me first. Told me what had happened here, why everyone in Nipton deserved to die, all kinds of bullshit. Right as they were about to leave, he told me that if I really thought he was evil, I should take a shot. So I did."

"Mm." He stared at the bodies a bit longer, circling around them like a predator surveying a kill, then went to the base of the stairs to the town hall. He looked at the doors.

"Don't go in there. Trust me, it's not pretty."

"Right." He stepped down.

"We should go, anyway."

"Right."

She took the lead again.

* * *

The two giant figures stood silhouetted against the deepening red sky, like two people near a great bonfire. _Fire_. Boone had wondered how Nipton had looked to Ash when she first got there, when the fires still roared and the men on crosses still bled and the Legion mongrels still snapped at their feet. He wondered how she felt. But he didn't ask. He couldn't. He had known her for less than a day, known _of_ her for barely longer than that. Her feelings weren't his business, not unless they started affecting her actions. And so they had walked in silence.

Until she stopped abruptly, almost at the top of the hill, and turned to him. "Look, I know it's not my place to ask, but are you doing okay? After Nipton?" Her voice was concerned.

"I'm fine." Why would he be more bothered than her? The legionaries, maybe. But they were dead. That was good enough for him. Maybe.

"Oh. Right. Okay." And then her back was to him again, and soon they were at the statues' feet. She waved to the soldier standing over to one side – no, a sergeant – and he waved back. She led Boone past the gate on the left side, and at the base of a set of stairs looked to him. "Hey, I've gotta go talk to someone. You can come up, or there are some traders over there," she gestured to the gated area across the road, "or… wait here. Up to you. I'll be quick."

He nodded. He didn't need anything so he crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, watching her ascend the steps. The ranger at the top – woman, real pale – looked eager to talk to her. Her expression fell as their discussion went on. Ash swung her pack around and pulled out that wolf-head helm from one of the legionaries back in Nipton and held it out to her. The ranger frowned, nodded, and took it. They shook hands, and Ash returned to him.

She tapped on the wall. "They've got food and drink in here, and free beds." She paused, looked around, and took her sunglasses off. "Here I am explaining all this to you, and you've probably been here already, huh?"

"Yeah. Not often, but yeah, back when I was enlisted. Never liked it much."

She smiled half-heartedly. "Sorry for making you come back, then. You know anyone here?"

"Doubt it. It's been a while." And time had taken its toll on the place. The soldiers were weak and sparse and barely bothered to wear their uniforms right. Better than nothing, but not good.

She nodded and walked inside. He followed. It was refreshingly cool and dim. A woman behind the bar cleaned out glasses with a rag that had seen better days. A few troops sat in a table in the far end, hunched over, talking close. Another woman was perched precariously on a barstool, head down on the bar. Ash headed straight for her, pulling her pack off while she walked. She set it below the chair of her choosing. Boone did the same with his bag, opting for a stool one away from Ash's. He liked space.

Ash nodded to the bartender. "Hey. Jerky and a Nuka-Cola?" Service was quick, and she slid a handful of caps over.

"Anything for you?" The bartender was eyeing him.

"Same as her." He hadn't been in a restaurant in a long time. Not that this was a restaurant. But still. Same idea. He fished the caps out of his pocket and ate. It was salty and tough and not the prettiest meal, but hit the spot, and there was a lot of it on the plate.

"Still drinkin', huh?" Ash's voice. He looked up. She was talking to the woman next to her.

The woman lifted her head off the bar, blinked bleary-eyed, and adjusted the rim of her hat. "Hey, at least I drink the good stuff, not that sugary water you've got." She waved at the two bottles of Nuka-Cola on the bar, then she raised her hand to get the bartender's attention. "Another whiskey, if you'd be so kind." Her glass was instantly refilled. By the look on the bartender's face, Boone got the feeling that was a constant occurrence.

Ash cracked open her bottle and pocketed the cap once the cola was done hissing. "So you're down to single shots now? The whole bottle made more sense."

"I'm trying to pace myself, I'll have you know."

"And I'll bet that's working out well." Ash and the bartender exchanged glances.

"Yeah, well. What can you do?" The woman shrugged and drank and licked her lips. "So you found yourself a silent pack mule with a rifle or what?"

Ash smiled. "This is Boone. Boone, Cass." She toned her voice down into a false whisper. "She drinks a lot."

The corner of his mouth threatened to curl up but he won out in the end, and his lips stayed a straight line. He nodded to Cass.

She raised her glass to him. "Don't think you could've picked a finer piece of ass to travel with." Ash sighed heavily beside her. "Okay, a finer… heart of gold, then. Girl's done a hell of a lot to clean up the Mojave and she's barely been here a few weeks."

Boone sipped at his Nuka-Cola. Too sweet. He wished he had gotten a beer. "That so?"

"NCR might as well give her an honorary title now and get it over with. Hey, speaking of… you're a sniper?"

"Was in 1st Recon."

"Yeah, I've been hanging around this joint long enough to pick up on things like that. Where'd she get you up from?"

"Novac."

"Oh, _that_ shit hole. Er, no offense. I'm more of a city girl. Or at least a big-town one. Bright lights and all that jazz."

Ash picked an opportune time to chime in, before the conversation could have a chance to turn bad. "You can tell she's a real people person."

Cass rolled her eyes and dragged a finger along the rim of her now empty glass. "I manage."

They made small talk after that. Boone stayed out of it for the most part, nodding or saying "yeah" when the need arose. From what he could gather, Cass was in the business of caravans, or at least had been at one point. Nothing that interested him too much. Not until Cass mentioned something about Primm.

"You what?"

They both looked at him as if his reentry into the dialogue was a surprise. Ash shrugged. "Things were kinda rough there. I helped them out."

Cass smacked her shoulder. "'Kinda rough'? There were ex-cons roaming the streets, kid. You even made it onto the radio."

"_I_ didn't, the new sheriff did."

"Whatever."

Ash frowned at Cass, then looked to Boone. "Remember how I told you about what happened in Primm?"

He nodded.

Her voice became hushed and she leaned towards him. "The NCR wasn't doing shit there, so I cleared out the town. Then I had to find someone to run the place, since the old sheriff got killed and the deputy was about as dumb as you can be and still speak. And I wasn't about to let the NCR walk in and wave their flag around. So I had to go clear out the prison too, because the NCR wasn't gonna touch that place either, and put a lawman from there into power."

"Oh." The tone she used when she talked about the NCR made him uneasy. He didn't like it at all. He tried to think of something more to say. Anything other than defending the NCR. Didn't want to start a fight about that now. Not here, at least. He settled for neutrality. "You find a lot to do."

She sighed and looked back to her food. Her fingertip traced shapes into the moisture on her bottle. "Guess I just like to solve problems."


	8. Lonely Blue Boy

CHAPTER EIGHT: LONELY BLUE BOY

* * *

Ash took the top bunk. She had woken up a few times in the night to the grating sound of snoring, but that's the way it went when you shared a room with at least a dozen other people. Still, it was decent sleep. She rose shortly before dawn. When she slid down from the mattress, her back cracked loudly. God, but that felt good. Boone was gone from the bottom bunk, his rifle and pack nowhere in sight. Had he left? She made her way to the bathroom in the almost-dark, splashed water on her face, and rinsed her mouth out with water. Real cleaning could wait until they were in Novac tonight. Wasn't like this was a long time to go without a bath, anyway. She adjusted her hat in the mirror, grabbed her things from the foot of the bed, and walked outside.

The morning air was crisp and cool compared to the stuffy, body-warmed barracks. Sunlight was just now finding its way into the sky, filtering in as light pink spots in the wispy clouds. She zipped her jacket up. She found Boone up the stairs, sitting at the table Ghost was usually standing by, facing the wastes. He stirred as she climbed up, turning and nodding to her once she was on his level, then back to the desert.

She pulled a pack of cigarettes out and lit one. "You get a good rest?"

"Not really."

"Your sleep must be all fucked up from the night watch, huh?" The cigarette felt comforting on her lips. She blew her first trail of smoke out in a straight line. When Boone didn't respond, she continued, "I'm going to Goodsprings today. Should get into Novac late tonight if I leave soon. If you want to take it easy, you can stay here."

"No. I'll come."

"Okay. Good." She didn't _need_ to go to Goodsprings, but she figured it couldn't hurt to have Doc Mitchell check her head out. Really, though, her main motivation in the side trip was getting back to Novac as late as possible. Head straight there from here and they'd be in town in the middle of the day, everyone up and about. She didn't want Boone to have to deal with their talk of Jeannie May, of how wonderful and sweet and kind of a woman she was, of how it was before her time to go. Not to mention any questions about his departure. He had been through enough as it was. She puffed out another stream of smoke. "You know, if we're gonna be traveling together like this, it couldn't hurt to get to know each other."

He shifted his eyes away from the rapidly lightening sky. "I guess. Not really my thing."

"The talking in general thing or the sharing life stories thing?"

"Either. Both." There was a very slight hint of amusement in his voice. Very slight. She'd take what she could get. "You ask, I'll do my best to answer."

"Well, for starters, you ever take that beret off?"

"No. You ever take your hat off?"

"Fair enough. So you came to Novac with Manny, right?"

"Yeah."

"Sounds like you two used to be best friends. What happened there?"

"People change. Not a lot to say."

"If you insist." She took a final, long draw and stamped her cigarette out in the ashtray on the table. "You got water and food for the day?"

"Yeah." If he showed any emotion, she guessed he would look incredulous.

"Sorry, not used to dealing with someone so prepared. Shall we?"

He nodded and rose, pulling his pack over his shoulders, then his rifle. She let him go down the stairs first. He was taller than her, but then, most people were. He had stayed in decent shape, too, unlike Manny, who seemed soft around the edges. Different levels of discipline, she assumed. She had a hard time picturing them as pals, but as he had said, people change. She got the feeling it was Boone who had done the most changing. And Manny hadn't cared for Carla, had hated her to the point of thinking her kidnapping was a good thing. So of course she knew why their friendship abruptly ended, but anything to talk about was better than nothing.

When they passed below the statues, she licked her lips and spoke. "Hey, I'm Ashley, by the way. Ashley Silveira. Might as well know our full names if we're gonna stick together, right?"

He paused, as if considering the pros and cons of disclosing such information to her. "Craig Boone. But don't call me Craig."

She nodded. "Sure."

The road led them down the hill, through the broken-down cars and trucks. The winds in the desert valley below were just beginning to pick up, sending the sand into a frenzy. Far in the distance, the constant, bright glow of New Vegas faded out in the presence of the sun.

* * *

Goodsprings was about as small as Boone remembered it. He had gone through it a handful of times when he was serving with the NCR but had never stayed. Probably because there was nothing to do. Ash had left him at the saloon while she went to visit her doctor. Didn't say what it was for. So he grabbed a table in the corner and nursed a beer – if you're in a saloon, you might as well drink – and a few glasses of ice cold water. The weak lights and the slightly less hot air soothed his eyes and his freshly sunburned skin, and he must have dozed off in his booth because the time passed surprisingly quick. He came to suddenly when he heard her voice. The bartender, Trudy, was thanking her for a patched up radio. They shared some pleasant conversation, then Ash noted that it was time for her to go, and she and Boone departed.

She was walking slower today. He didn't like that, but he wasn't going to complain. Not out loud, anyway. She took a route through the hills around Nipton. _That_ he couldn't blame her for, even if it tacked some time onto their trip. Novac didn't come into view until very late at night, and to his pleasant surprise he was exhausted. Had she planned to wear him out like this to reset his sleep schedule? She did seem bright enough to consider it. The town was empty when they arrived. Had she planned that timing too?

At the steps up to her room, she turned to him. "Come by tomorrow morning. We can head out whenever you're ready."

He nodded and went to his door, unlocking it. And it didn't feel right. Not at all. But he set his pack aside and took his boots and sunglasses and beret off and laid down to rest. His lids were heavy and his feet were sore and he _wanted_ to sleep, he really did, but it just wasn't coming to him. Not tonight. Not here, anyway. Even the cracks on the ceiling weren't coaxing him into slumber. It felt _wrong_. And so after a great length of trying, he got up and retied his boots and put his beret on and grabbed his bag and rifle and went to her door. Was she even awake still? A stream of light came out from under the door but that didn't mean much. Guess he'd find out. He knocked lightly.

A few seconds later the door opened a crack, then all the way. She looked surprised. "You okay?"

"Can I come in?"

She nodded and he entered, and she closed the door. It smelled faintly of soap. She was barefoot, in a fresh shirt and a pair of pants, for once not leather, but loose fabric that hung on her hips. In place of her hat was a towel, which she was drying her hair with. Deep black hair. "You okay, Boone?"

"Yeah. Just… can't sleep there. It doesn't feel…" He trailed off and shrugged. He couldn't explain it. It wouldn't be the first time he was at a loss for words. He _could_ say what he really felt, that he hadn't been sane sleeping in that bed ever since Carla was taken from him. But that was a lot to lay on someone he barely knew.

Her eyes flashed with worry. "No, I understand. You can stay here tonight. The couch isn't so bad."

"Thanks." He put his things aside.

She ruffled the towel over her scalp and then pulled the cloth away. Her hair was long, past her shoulders, wavy, thick. More interesting than that was the scar by her left temple. Small patch of hair was missing there, where the flesh was discolored. He'd seen a lot of marks like that, usually on dead people. Very clearly a bullet wound. Her jaw tensed at his attention. "What?"

"Nothing. Don't see many women wear their hair that long, that's all."

"Oh." She eased up, but ran her fingers through her hair so it fell over the scar. "I guess not. I like keeping it this way."

She went to the bathroom and he sat on the couch and unlaced his boots. When she came back, her towel was gone. "Help yourself to anything in the fridge while you're here. There's a clean towel by the tub if you want to wash up." She handed over one of the two pillows from her bed.

"Thanks."

She flicked the light off. He rolled onto his side, his back to her bed. The pillow smelled good. He could hear her slide under her sheets, and soon her breathing evened out. Boone closed his eyes. When he opened them again, daylight was streaming in through the curtains. He sat upright. Shit, had he slept the whole night? He felt strange. Refreshed, for once, even if the couch was too short for him to lay on properly. But it was well past dawn. Hadn't she wanted to head out again today? He looked to the bed, to her curled up form underneath the off-white blanket. When he stood, his back cracked. It felt nice.

"Ash?" When she didn't stir, he prodded her shoulder lightly. "Ash."

"Mmph. What?"

"We overslept."

"Overslept for what?" She rolled onto her back, blinking the sleep out of her eyes. "Oh. No. Not gonna leave today. I think we could use some rest. Spend the day here. Leave tomorrow." She yawned and closed her eyes again. "You could use a bath, too."

He frowned, then sniffed his shirt. She was right. He was amazed at how much dirt and grime came off in the tub.


	9. There Goes My Baby

Thanks to you wonderful folks who have reviewed, favorited, and alerted! Hope you're all enjoying my tale.

* * *

CHAPTER NINE: THERE GOES MY BABY

* * *

"The name Benny mean anything to you?"

They were a short ways out of Novac now, both well-rested from a full day of relaxation. If it had been boring for him, Boone hadn't complained at all. She guessed he hadn't done much different when he was in Novac on his own, before she showed up to shake things around. He had done a whole lot of staring at the ceiling at first, then flipped through some of the books she had collected. She alternated between reading and humming along to the tunes put up by Mr. New Vegas. Boone didn't complain about that, either. And she hadn't brought up anything remotely serious when they were in her room, but now they were on the road again, the dawn sun turning the sky pink. Humorless subjects were fair game.

"No."

"Damn." She sighed. "Manny only gave me his name." There was a stretch of silence before she continued. Hell, there was no sense in hiding it. "So you probably already figured out that I got shot in the head."

Boone looked up from the road. "Yeah. I noticed."

"I was doing work as a courier. Or I was. Guess I sort of still am, since my job never got done. I was delivering a package. A poker chip. Seemed harmless enough until I got ambushed and hit in the back of the head on the road. Woke up in the cemetery by Goodsprings with my hands bound and a guy in a checkered suit giving me some speech about how I got tied up in the wrong game. And then…" She reached up to touch the scar under her hat. "Next thing I knew, I was in the doctor's house, head feeling like it was gonna split open and everyone in town telling me how lucky I was."

"Takes a lot of luck to survive a bullet to the head."

"Yeah. Luck, and a helpful robot to dig you out of your grave, and a damn good doctor. Anyway, I stuck around town for a while, helped them out against some Powder Gangers. Wandered up to the cemetery a few times to try to remember everything I could. There wasn't much to go off of, just the man in the checkered suit with a weird way of talking, and the pair of Khans he was with." She thought Boone stiffened slightly at that last part, but she went on. She could ask later. "Found some cigarette butts up there, which must be his 'cause I remember him smoking when he was talking to me. But it's been real slow going. I was expecting Manny to know more, since he had me clear out that entire REPCONN facility, and that sure as hell wasn't easy. But no. All he could tell me was the guy's first name and that he and the Khans he hired out were going to Boulder City."

"Boulder City? Place is nothing but ruins. Be surprised if you found something there."

"Yeah, well, it's all I got."

They plodded on. The sun was already bearing down waves of heat across the waste. Another hot day. But when wasn't it a hot day? She wondered how different the weather must've been before the war. Cooler, probably. It _must_ have been cooler because no one in their right mind would've settled in a land this miserably hot if they had anywhere else to go. And was this area always so dry? Did it _ever_ rain here? She'd have to find a book about it. But pre-war weather wasn't the most exciting topic. Anything like that probably got used for campfire kindling a long time ago. If she was starving for any kind of knowledge, she might as well take advantage of what she had right now.

"Tell me about 1st Recon."

"What about it?"

"Anything, everything. I know the basics of the military but nothing about specific battalions." It was a half truth; Manny had told her a little about it in their friendly chats, before she decided he was an asshole. But it was something to talk to Boone about.

Boone rubbed the back of his neck. "It's a sniper division. You don't choose it yourself. They pick the best sharpshooters from recent recruits. Our motto was 'The Last Thing You Never See.' Pretty accurate." He paused briefly. "So were we."

She smiled. "Did you enjoy it?"

"Yeah. Close combat, infantry, that wasn't for me."

"Me neither. Hey, you must've been at Bitter Springs?"

"Maybe."

"Ah." At least it was easy to figure out when he didn't want to talk about something. She bit her lip. She was curious. Might as well give it a go. "You said your wife was taken by the Legion. Did you find out where they went?"

"I told you, Carla's dead."

"Okay, but… how do you know for sure?"

"I just do."

"Not gonna tell me how you know?"

"No."

"Right."

And they walked.

* * *

The glow from the computer screen sent a pale green shade over Ash's face. She pursed her lips and frowned at the monitor. "This ARCHIMEDES II thing is insane."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Something real dangerous. Sounds like a radiation blast or a death ray but it's hard to tell, they were vague about it." She pointed at the screen and stepped to the side. Boone took the invitation and moved in to read. The text described a weapons testing routine, one that was strong enough to wipe out everything outside the power plant. "It _does_ explain why the Brotherhood was so interested in this place, at least."

She bumped in front of him to type on the keyboard again. He shifted out of the way. "You going in?"

"Yeah. Getting access right now, and…" She hit the enter key. "There, that should do it. I'm gonna drop my bag in one of the tents then go deal with it. I shouldn't be too long."

"Could be dangerous. You don't need to go alone." Maybe he was starting to care about her well-being. At least, didn't want her to die because of some Old World security system.

"Oh?" She was still wearing her sunglasses, but he thought she looked amused.

"I can come. Might know a thing or two about firing guns."

"I guess. You know, you've got some good initiative for being from the NCR."

There it was again, that tone he hated. He frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She glanced around at the patrolling troops. "Nothing. Nevermind."

They set their packs in an empty tent and she led the way to the control facility's entrance. The temperature made him grateful that he could wear a lightweight shirt instead of the bulky body armor of the soldiers' uniforms. Dehydration and heat stroke had always been concerns in the Mojave. How Ash could run around in full leather, he would never understand. All the water she drank, maybe. When they reached the metal door, she pulled her sunglasses off and tucked them inside her jacket, then turned to him.

"Look, I know you have a lot of loyalty to the NCR, and I get that, it's fine. But it's hard to deny that shit like this keeps happening."

"Hm?"

"This is just like what happened in Primm. They didn't want to deal with it on their own so they got someone from the outside to do it for them."

"But you didn't put them in charge there." He wanted to say more, but that's all that could come out before he caught himself. She had good intentions, sure. Didn't mean her attitude towards the government was any less irritating.

"Oh, I know. I know."

She opened the door and together they entered the dark hall. The air was cool, and they sighed in unison at the end to the stifling dry heat. He kept his sunglasses on – all too often, things could flash. Even if it wasn't blinding, it could be startling. Ash eased her revolver out of its holster as they walked slowly, quietly down, hugging the wall and listening for anything. He swung his rifle into his arms. All seemed quiet.

Ash stopped at the corner and peered around. When she looked to him, she whispered, "At least one turret, probably more. Wouldn't be surprised if there are some robots around." She glanced back around the corner, then to the door across the way. "Call me crazy, but I've got a feeling. Cover me."

Before he could protest, she crouched and bolted to the door. The turret whirred into action but she was in the other room before the bullets could hit her. It was painfully loud in the closed quarters. What the hell was she doing? He took careful aim at the turret and shot. Barely dinged it, but got its attention, and it fired at his corner as he took cover. And then it stopped.

He was glancing around the wall when he saw her in the doorway. There was a console glowing behind her. She grinned broadly and gave him a thumbs-up. He felt his nostrils flare a little. She could've had the decency to tell him what she was planning before she ran off. Something caught her eye and she raised her gun to send off a few shots. If the turret had been loud, the revolver was deafening. His ears rang.

He learned to stay back from her after that, to avoid the sound as much as he could. At least they were only shooting chunks of metal. People, and he might get bad memories.

They reached the main control room without any harm. He was surprised. Her move back when she turned the turrets off had scared him, made him wonder if she really knew what she was doing. But she did everything else right. Aimed well. Reloaded when they were out of danger. Always checked around corners. Always listened at a door before opening it. Made sure the robots were fully disabled before moving on. She holstered her revolver once she was positive the coast was clear and moved over to the computer. A few tweaked wires later and she was typing away.

Boone eyed the screen from a few feet back. "Odd that the Brotherhood didn't make it this far."

"I got the impression they weren't here for too long before the NCR swooped in." She paused to read a few paragraphs of text. "Guess this is where I set everything up."

"Going to power the full region, aren't you?"

She smiled. "Am I really that easy to figure out?" She hit a couple of the keys and read the screen again when new information popped up.

"And the weapon?"

She let out a long breath and tapped her fingers idly across the keyboard. "I'd be lying if I said it wasn't tempting at all. But ARCHIMEDES sounds… dangerous, to say the least. Things like it destroyed the world in the first place. That sort of tech should've died with the war."

Boone nodded.

"Okay, looks like we've gotta go outside to start the system up."

She nearly ran to the control panel outside, clearly eager to see what was in store. He followed behind at a slower pace, and by the time he reached her, she was wearing her sunglasses again. The sun bore down on them from straight above.

"God, I hope this works." She pulled the lever down. And waited. And then a low, droning hum began, growing louder and stronger, and finally the solar panels tilted, one row at a time. The heat was astounding. The light was blinding. Boone looked over to Ash. She was staring out over the base below, smiling like a proud mother.


	10. In the Still of the Night

CHAPTER TEN: IN THE STILL OF THE NIGHT

* * *

Ash was having fun. The food could've been better but a meal was a meal, and the NCR soldiers made good company. They were eager to chat with an outsider, at first throwing questions at her left and right. She tried to answer to the best of her ability. They were curious. Most of them were young, too, in their late teens. Mr. Fantastic was thankfully absent from dinner, probably too busy trying to figure out what exactly she had done to start up the plant. But Ignacio, who she wished could replace that idiot in glasses, came up to join them after thanking her. Even _Boone_ was talking, once the troops focused their attention on him and his scoped rifle.

"There are more things to consider than where the target is. Wind speed and direction, target speed and range, light source, other enemies. We have to work in pairs. If we didn't, we wouldn't be nearly as effective."

One of the younger men spoke up in between spoonfuls of stew. "Is that why everyone in 1st Recon wears sunglasses? The light?"

Boone nodded. "Glare can ruin an otherwise good shot."

Another one, this time a woman: "What about the Rangers? Do they recruit out of 1st Recon?" Damn, but they were green. Ash probably knew more about their military than they did. Poor kids got rushed into it too fast.

"They can. They pull the best from all battalions."

A different one sighed. "Wish I could be a Ranger just for the equipment. It'd be real nice to have a uniform that fit right and a gun that fired every time I pull the trigger."

Ash finished her glass of water. "They don't arm you well?" She wasn't about to start spouting off the many shortcomings of the NCR in front of a group of them. Hearing things like this sure fueled her opinions, though.

"Nope. You'd think they'd give us better gear, especially with the Legion right over in Nelson."

"Wait, what happened there?"

"Legionaries came in and took the whole place out. Now there's a hostage situation going on. Started the other day, I don't think it's been resolved yet."

Ash glanced at Boone. He didn't look pleased, more so than usual. She set down her almost-empty bowl of stew. "We'll see what we can do there."

"You're going now?"

"The sooner the better." She stood and grabbed her pack. Boone followed suit. "Thanks for dinner."

"Hey, wait up! I have something." One of them ran off. He came back a minute later, holding a small object wrapped in cloth. "They gave me one of these. Not much use since they gave me a shotgun with it. Figure you could get more use out of it. There's a workbench in here if you want to mount it up now."

She took it and unwrapped it. A rifle scope, in pristine condition. She smiled. "Hey, thanks. Maybe it can help me out tonight."

* * *

"You see them?"

"Yeah. They're alive."

"Good." Boone crouched down on the rocks. Ash was peering through her newly-fitted scope. A few legionaries lay dead behind them, taken away at a distance so the two could creep up onto the hillside overlooking Nelson.

"Any guards?"

"Couple back by that gate. Some dogs, too. Probably more in the barracks."

"Okay. We do this as quick as possible. They get the idea that we're attacking and they might do something drastic. Whatever you do, don't miss." It may have been the second or third time tonight he was telling her what to do with her rifle. Or the tenth. He lost count.

Ash looked away from her scope for a second to glare at him. "I've shot a gun before. I know what I'm doing."

"You sure about that?" He had only really seen her shoot her revolver at hulking robots at close range. Hell of a lot different than moving human targets at a distance. Still, he knew there was an edge to his words that wasn't meant for her. Incidents like this – hostages, mercy killings – didn't sit right with him. At all. They hadn't even before Carla.

She made an irritated noise deep in her throat, almost a growl, but didn't pick a fight. "Are we gonna do this or what?"

Boone flattened himself against the rock and looked through his scope. "You take the pair on the right. I'll handle the others. You lose track of things, tell me."

"Wow, really giving me credit here." Her voice was a whisper, but still incensed.

He took a deep breath and exhaled, and heard her do the same beside him. The first shot hit its mark straight in the head. The body fell. Already the others were turning. Another shot, another body down. Ash had fired twice but said nothing, so he could only hope for the best. He let off two more rounds. Somehow the dogs dropped too, even though he had been aiming at the now-dead legionaries next to them. In the calm that followed, he eased his rifle down and looked at Ash.

She was still watching through her scope. "Told you I could shoot."

"I didn't –"

Ash interrupted him. "I'm not seeing anything coming out of the barracks." She moved into a crouch, rifle at her side. "You wanna get in closer?"

He nodded. He almost opened his mouth to remind her to reload while they moved, but realized that it wasn't necessary, and wouldn't be the best thing to say to her right then. They stopped on a lower rocky edge when the door to one of the buildings flung open and a dozen or so legionaries piled out. They scattered quickly, but none made for their direction, not yet. Boone fired until he had to slide back and reload. Ash crawled up to the edge and took aim. They were running forward and shooting now. By her third shot, their bullets were getting too close for comfort. One ricocheted off the front of the boulder Boone was crouched behind. Ash hissed and rolled back, clutching her shoulder.

"Hit?"

"Only a graze. Five left. You stay here."

She left her rifle on the ground by her side and shifted further down the trail towards town, concealed by the rocks. He popped out to fire, taking another down before he had to duck back again to avoid the bullets headed his way. Then that unmistakable revolver rang out until all six shots fired, echoing through the hillside. When the stark silence took its place, he rose to look. Ash was standing over the freshly killed bodies, reloading. Midway through, she looked up at him and nodded. He grabbed her rifle and walked down the hill.

He handed her gun over. "You're not bad."

"Gee, thanks." She holstered her gun and slung her rifle over her shoulder.

"Your arm okay?"

"Yeah. I've had worse. Let's get them down." She jogged to the center of town and climbed up onto the raised area that the three crucifixes were on. He followed. "You all right, boys? Boone, give me your machete. I'll cut the ropes, you help them down." He complied. Each of the soldiers thanked them profusely and ran – as best they could – up the road. When they were left alone, she handed his machete to him and wiped her brow. "You should go with them. I'm gonna look around."

She hopped off the platform and stalked away before he could respond.


	11. Only the Lonely

Good morning, faithful readers! To clarify from the last chapter, I glossed over Dead Sea and made him one of the legionaries who came out from the barracks. Hope that's cool.

Thank you for the support! This is going to end up as a pretty lengthy story, and I'll try to keep up with my frequent updates for as long as possible.

* * *

CHAPTER ELEVEN: ONLY THE LONELY

* * *

"Where'd you learn to shoot like that?"

"Shoot like what? Are you saying I'm _good_?"

"I'm saying you're not bad. Where'd you learn?"

Ash looked away, pretending to be more interested in the dark landscape – another hour or so and the morning sun would be up. Boone had been a pain in the ass to her in Nelson, and she wanted to be sure he understood that.

"You going to answer me or not?"

Her eyes shot back to him. "Why should I? Every time I ask _you_ anything it's like talking to an angry brick wall."

He sighed. "You're a good shot. You tell me how you learned, you can ask me something."

Her lips curled into an unpleasant smile. "Wow, trading information? You sure must be impressed that someone outside of 1st Recon can pick up a gun without shooting themselves in the foot."

"Well?"

"Okay, okay." She kicked a small rock across the road. They were heading back to Novac again. "I kind of lived on the streets back in California. I had parents, but… I didn't spend a lot of time with them. Fended for myself, most of the time. Learned to survive, observe, watch out for danger. I've met people out here who say they left the coast because things were too serene. The NCR has a decent grip on things there, sure, but there's a lot going on under the surface. It's not all sunshine and bright skies, not for everyone. Anyway, there was that. Then I ran with the Gun Runners for a couple years. Never joined them officially, just hung around a lot. Learned a ton from them. Proper care and maintenance, ammunition types, anything and everything relating to combat. And of course, how to shoot well. When I left, I did some work as a freelance bodyguard, caravan guard, that sort of thing. Nothing too exciting. And then I wound up here."

"That explains a lot."

"Yeah? Good." She lit a cigarette and took a long draw from it. It eased her nerves. She instantly felt less volatile. "My turn?"

He sighed again. "Yeah."

She had considering asking about her death but it didn't feel right, not at all. He could tell her on his own when he was good and ready, without being forced. "How'd you meet your wife?"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I was on leave. Went to New Vegas to relax. She was a waitress. Kept coming by to talk to me even after I stopped ordering drinks." He grew quieter. "Said I looked lost, like I needed someone to talk to."

Ash smiled softly. Listening to him talk like that was nice. Or maybe it was the cigarette. "What was she like?"

"Talked a lot. I liked listening, so we suited each other fine that way. She had an air about her, a way of talking, something about her that I've never seen anyone else have. Like she grew up in a different world. Always loved the city, too. In Novac, she was never…" He trailed off and shook his head.

"Don't go blaming yourself." She touched her hand to his shoulder, but immediately took it away when he looked at her. "And don't say you aren't."

"Yeah. Never been good with guilt."

"Couldn't tell." She tapped the ash from her cigarette. The dinosaur was close. A very good thing. She was exhausted. "You ever talk to a doctor about it?"

"No."

"Couldn't hurt. Or, if you were more open in general. Holding shit in never ends well." Sleepiness always made her more likely to say the first thing on her mind.

"Yeah. I guess." Damn, there he went, getting quiet and closed-up again.

"What I'm saying is, if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm around. I'll listen. Okay?"

"Yeah."

She dropped her cigarette and stamped it out on the pavement. "You taking the couch again tonight?"

"Maybe."

* * *

Boone knocked on her door softly, unsure if she was already asleep. But she called out that it was open, so he let himself in, a small bag in his arms. Things he had needed to get from his room. He still felt off in there. Wasn't sure if he'd ever get over it. If he could ever sleep in that bed again. Ash wasn't in the room, probably finishing a bath. He set his bag down and sifted through the items: few bottles of whiskey, a wooden box, a fresh set of clothes. He was pulling on the clean shirt when Ash popped out of the bathroom in a dark shirt, once black but now faded gray, and that loose pair of pants.

"Hey. You eaten yet?"

"No."

"You hungry at all?"

"No."

She sighed, combing her fingers through her wet hair. "Yeah, me neither."

He sat on the couch while she flopped onto her bed, reaching an arm across to flick the radio on. Static at first, but after playing with the dial, the smooth voice of a male singer came into the air. She grabbed the pack of cigarettes from the nightstand, tugging one out.

Before she could light it, he spoke. "Ever smoke cigars?"

She paused. "A couple times. Why?"

He picked up the wooden box and opened it. It smelled musky, wonderful. He took two of the dark cigars from it and handed one to her. "You like them?"

She placed the cigarette aside and took it, mouth crooked in a half-grin. "Oh, yeah."

She sparked the lighter under his cigar first, then lit hers. Smoke filled his mouth. Full-bodied and rich but not harsh, hints of spice. Delicious. Across from him, Ash closed her eyes and hummed in pleasure.

When she opened them again, the blue sparkled. "I thought you didn't smoke."

"Not cigarettes."

"Oh. So what exactly are we celebrating?"

"Hm?"

"From what I know, people usually break out cigars for special occasions. What is it?"

"Don't know. Felt like a cigar."

"Uh huh." She cocked one eyebrow up. "You know you're bad at lying, right?

"You started up a power plant and saved three men. I'd say that's worth something."

"Man, getting a compliment out of you is like trying to make love to a deathclaw."

He blinked. "What?"

She shrugged. "Anyway, give yourself some credit. Don't know if I could've done it without your help."

"You made the choices."

"I did what I thought was right. Gave the electricity to the people who needed it the most… so, everyone. And the hostages, there was no way I'd leave them for mercy killings."

He swallowed hard. "Yeah."

"Does that really happen a lot with the NCR?"

"Not a lot, but it does happen. From day one, we were told it was a very real possibility."

"Did you ever have to do it?"

He didn't respond.

"Sorry. I won't pry." Curiosity was in her eyes, though.

"What's your problem with the NCR, anyway?"

"Problem?" She pursed her lips. "They're greedy and overextended. Their two-headed bear really suits them. Two mouths to feed. They're always hungry for more territory, even if it's not in their best interest."

"'They' meaning who?" His voice sounded cold when it came out.

She frowned. "The government, the people in charge. They're the ones fucking it up. You think Vegas should be under NCR rule, don't you?"

He nodded.

"Well, I don't. But look, I don't have anything against the soldiers. It's further up the chain of command where things start to break down. And I'd never say that the NCR should burn to the ground or something. I hope I didn't come off that way."

He shrugged but eased up. Maybe she was more reasonable than he had thought. They sat for a time, smoking, breathing it all in. He leaned forward when his cigar was a small stub, stamping it out in the ashtray on her nightstand. "Where to next?"

She held onto her cigar for a little longer. "We can sleep here all day, then head out tomorrow morning. Make our way to Boulder City. See where that brings us. Sound good to you?"

He nodded. He didn't exactly mind her way of drifting around – none of his business, after all – but he was beginning to wonder how devoted she was to catching that guy. Benny, wasn't it? Yeah, Benny. When Carla was taken… No, no, there was no comparing this to _that_. But still, she didn't seem all that bent on getting to her final destination. If she had any history with that guy, maybe that was complicating things. But no, she couldn't have known him before this. She didn't even know his name until Manny told her. Then what had she been stalling for?

She laid her cigar to rest in the ashtray and yawned. Her hair was almost dry now, long black waves over her shoulders. "Don't know about you, but I'm exhausted. Turn the light off when you go to sleep, yeah?" And with that, she laid back and rolled onto her side, and he was alone.


	12. Your Folk

It's late and I can't sleep. Might as well post instead!

* * *

CHAPTER TWELVE: YOUR FOLK

* * *

"You should probably stay here while I go in. Don't think they'd take too kindly to someone with an NCR beret on."

Boone nodded. "Makes sense."

"And you should take these." She swung the hunting rifle from her back and handed it over to him, followed by Lucky.

He looked surprised, or concerned. "You think that's a good idea?"

"If I go in fully armed they might not like it. Might assume I'm there to kill them. Guns generally imply that."

"I don't like this."

Neither did she. "Yeah, well. Deal with it." Ash turned away from him before she could see his expression, and away from the kneeling soldiers with their guns at the ready, towards the ruined building. She walked forward, raising her arms up, palms out. Maybe this was dumb. No, this was _definitely_ dumb. The Khans could riddle her with bullets before she got anywhere near them. But she had to take the chance, even if her heartbeat was drowning out other noise in her ears. Not that there was much other noise – it was silent here, eerily so. Probably because nobody was around but bare scraps of the two factions. If there had been any shouting back and forth between the sides earlier, there wasn't now. Nothing but the wind, and even that was subdued.

When she got close, one of the Khans peered out from a corner of what was once a concrete wall, pistol held shakily in his hands. But he lowered it when he saw that she was wearing leather instead of an NCR uniform. "What do you want?" He sounded exhausted.

She kept her hands up. "To talk, that's all. Maybe to solve all of this."

"Saw you walk in with one of them NCR boys. You ain't with 'em, are you?"

She smiled. "No, definitely not."

"Then how'd you get in?"

"Told them that I could take care of the situation. They take all the help they can get these days. Wasn't so hard to convince them."

"Okay, well… Don't do anything stupid. Come with me."

She let her hands drop to her sides and followed the man. Through the remains of a doorway to her left, she spotted the hostages: two young men in NCR clothes, sitting on the ground under the watchful eye of a woman with a mohawk and a shotgun. They looked tired and scared but bore no bruises or cuts or other marks of abuse. That was a very good thing. But she wondered why they even cared, the higher-ups at the NCR. In Nelson, three experienced soldiers had been kidnapped by the Legion, the NCR's sworn enemy, and the man in charge there was prepared to take out all three in a mercy killing rather than risk the hides of himself and his few troops. But here? Here were two recruits barely out of boot camp and their squad was ready to run in and kill a group of Khans to save them. It didn't make any sense.

The man in front of her opened a door and waved her inside. It was dark and dirty. Smelled a little like piss, and the faint chemical odor of drugs lingered in the air. Two Khans stood behind the counter. One of them, the one with the orange mohawk and the bandana, looked familiar. _Really_ familiar. When he looked up at her it hit her – he was there at the Goodsprings cemetery when Benny shot her. His eyes widened. So he recognized her, too. Hopefully that could work in her favor.

"Whoa, whoa. You're dead. You should be dead."

She put her hands up again to signal that she was harmless. "Look, I'm not here for revenge. I didn't even know you were gonna be here. I want to negotiate for the hostages. That's all."

He pressed his hands together. His voice was nervous. "I don't know. I don't think that's gonna work."

She lowered her arms. "Can I know your name, at least?"

He shifted and glanced at the man next to him, then back to her. "Jessup. If you've got something to say, make it quick."

"Okay, Jessup. My name is Ash. I don't hold any allegiance to the NCR, okay? But those two guys you have out there… well, they're just kids, and they deserve to be let go."

"The NCR's fucked us over day in and day out. Why should I let them go, so they can hunt us down later?"

"They're innocent kids. Let them go."

He scowled. "Yeah, and they killed a hell of a lot more than two of our innocent kids at Bitter Springs. That was the worst of it but they still want us all dead."

"You don't have to live with making the same mistakes the NCR's made. You can be better than them." She silently prayed that she was getting through to him. "I'll be honest, if you kill those boys, their commanding officer is just gonna use that as an excuse to come in here and shoot all of you down. But if you let them go, he won't. And they'll remember it."

"You can't guarantee that. We're gonna have to shoot our way out of here."

"Yes, I _can_ guarantee it, and no, you won't have to do that." Of course it was a lie. If the soldiers got an order, she doubted she'd be able to stop them. "Let them go and I'll talk to the lieutenant. I may not be with the NCR, but I've helped them out a lot. He should listen to me."

He eyed her suspiciously, the cogs working away in his brain. Finally he let out a long breath and nodded. "Okay. Okay."

"Good. Now," she crossed her arms over her chest, "I'm guessing you can figure out what I'll ask you about next."

He smiled nervously. "Yeah. Benny Gecko is the guy you're lookin' for. He went back to New Vegas once he decided he was done with us. Fucking asshole. Here." He dug something small and shiny out of his pocket and tossed it to her. "He, uh, left that with us."

"Thanks." She examined the lighter in her hands. Silver, with a scantily clad pinup girl etched into one side. Remarkable condition. Much nicer than the rusty one she picked up in Goodsprings. "What about my things?"

"He took everything, your caps, your gun. He still had that chip last I saw, too."

So there was hope yet. "And where in Vegas, do you know?"

"The Tops. I don't know much else."

"Okay. Thank you. I'll get you out of this. Don't worry."

* * *

"What do you mean you're gonna kill them?"

Ash had that same posture from back in Novac, when Boone had come up into the nest to take his shift only to find her and Manny there. It was the same now, hands in fists at her side, her jaw tensed, her back straight as if to give her short frame as much height as possible. It didn't seem to have the same affect on Lieutenant Monroe as it had on Manny, though, as he was still firm.

"Orders came in from the top, to get rid of them, even if they release the hostages."

"You have your men back. They're safe. Isn't that enough?"

"The orders –"

"The orders? Whoever gave you the orders isn't here. They don't know exactly what's going on." She didn't know about Bitter Springs – how could she? – but Boone couldn't help but wonder just then. "The Khans held up their end of the bargain. They let your boys go. You can't let this happen."

"I don't…" The lieutenant ran his hand over his face. "You're right. They're free to go."

She immediately softened. "Good. Thank you. Trust me, this is the right thing to do."

She ran back into the ruins, and a minute later walked out amidst the Khans, who were watching the soldiers with suspicion. Boone couldn't really blame them. Ash was talking to the man with the mohawk, who he assumed was their leader, but they wandered a few yards off and it was impossible to make out what they said to each other. He gestured to her head at one point, and she reached up to touch the scar through her hat, half-smile on her lips. They nodded to each other, and the Khans departed, and Boulder City was quiet once more.

When she turned to come back, Boone made up the distance between them. "We need to talk."

She narrowed her brows. "Okay. What about?"

He led her away from the lieutenant, backing her up against a patch of concrete wall. "You made him defy orders from the top. Do you know how much shit he can get into for that?"

She tensed and stood straight, adopting _that_ posture again as her defense against him looming over her. "I didn't make him do anything. I'm a civilian."

"Fine, you _told_ him to –"

"Exactly, I told him. And if he hadn't already been considering the idea as a possibility, he wouldn't have agreed to it. I can't force someone in the NCR to do anything. I'm only a civilian."

"He could lose his rank for this."

"He could. I don't think he will, not if he talks his way out of it. If they even question him about it. The NCR's spread real thin these days. I can't imagine them putting that much effort into an investigation here."

He knew she was right about that, but he couldn't back down just yet. "And if they do investigate and find him guilty?" He still had some semblance of pride, at least when it came to the NCR.

"Then at least he saved lives today. He may not have followed orders, orders that were totally out of line, but he kept a group of people from being killed. Isn't that worth something?"

He crossed his arms over his chest and stepped back. "Yeah. I guess it is." Bitter Springs would have to remain his secret for now, if she talked about following orders with that much disdain.

"Good." She relaxed again. "Look, I get that it's a bitch to defy authority, and it can't always work… but that authority doesn't always know what's right. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn't. Individuals have to make that call."

He went straight for the nearest subject change. "Did you find out what you needed to know?"

"Yeah. Looks like we're going to New Vegas." She pulled out a cigarette and her lighter – no, not her normal one, but a new shiny silver one – and lit and smoked. "The Tops."

"Thought you were heading to Vegas before you knew any of this?"

"Figured I would go there after all this was over. Didn't think Benny would lead me there."

"And that Khan? Was he one of them?"

"One of the guys at the cemetery? Yeah. He was there when I got shot in the head." She took a long draw, then breathed out a plume of smoke, and reached into her jacket to get her sunglasses out. "Come on, let's go. I don't like it here."


	13. I Got a Woman

As always, please review if you have any critiques or comments. I live on validation. Om nom nom.

* * *

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: I GOT A WOMAN

* * *

With the sun drifting down in the sky, they made their way along the road. Ash had smoked her way through a few cigarettes since they left Boulder City, and she was still going strong. She was nervous, and when she got nervous, she couldn't get enough of them. New Vegas loomed in the distance. But not really so distant now. It was closer than it had ever been. And that scared her. Each step she took closer to Benny scared her. So she smoked and harassed Boone with whatever questions came to mind.

"So what happened in Boulder City, anyway? Why's it all blown to pieces?"

"NCR led legionaries to it at the Battle of Hoover Dam. Had the whole place rigged with explosives. Was the Rangers' idea. It worked, won the battle."

"Wow." She paused. "Hey, were you at Bitter Springs?"

"Maybe."

"That's the same answer you gave me the last time I asked that question. Yes or no?"

"Maybe."

"Okay, okay. I only ask because the Khans mentioned it."

"Yeah."

"Sounded like a lot of bad things happened there."

"Yeah."

"So did – Hey, did you see that?" Something caught her eye, something that had peeked out from behind a boulder up ahead. She dropped her cigarette and swung her rifle down into her arms.

Boone did the same, minus the cigarette, and stood by her side. "Yeah. Gang, probably."

She nodded and walked forward, slowly now. The sun was setting in her eyes, and the sunglasses only blocked out so much. She squinted to see, but nothing showed up in her vision. Then, for some reason – she really wasn't sure if she had heard something, or if she was just glancing away from the sun to give her eyes a brief rest – she looked over her shoulder. Two men in armor, Legion armor, were sneaking up slowly, still a ways back, guns out and ready. In the heartbeat that followed, she raised her rifle up. They didn't stop moving, perhaps blinded by the sun as she had been, or perhaps bent on continuing on no matter what. She caught the first one in her sights. She breathed out. Her finger pulled back on the trigger. The familiar crack erupted and as that legionary dropped to the ground, she followed suit with the other one. She lowered the rifle enough to get her full range of vision back and turned around in time to watch Boone pull his trigger. The one running forward from behind the rock fell.

Ash breathed again. "You think there are any more?"

"No. They always attack all at once."

"Good to know. I'll go loot those two, you check that one out."

She ran back, rifle still ready, just in case. The pair of legionaries had fallen side by side. She picked the two pistols off of them, a few bullets, and a handful of that Legion currency, then sprinted up to Boone. He was still crouched over the corpse.

"You find anything?"

He looked up. "How many legionaries have you killed?"

"What? Uh…" She paused to think. That big group in Nipton, which had been what, six? Then the four trying to ambush the caravans. Then that camp of ones guarding the Powder Gangers they were going to make into slaves, then the three by the ranger station. And then the group in Nelson. "I don't know. At least twenty-five, maybe thirty, I'd guess. More if you count these. Why?"

Boone stood, dusting off his knees. "They sent an assassin for you."

"Oh. Well, shit. That one back in Nipton must've been important."

"Guess so."

She swallowed. "You think they'll send more?"

"Yeah."

"You still want to stick with me?"

He took his eyes from the assassin's body and looked at her. She thought he seemed surprised under his sunglasses. "Yeah."

"Okay. Good. Good. Let's go."

* * *

Boone was ravenous by the time they reached the 188 Trading Post. Of course he had food in his pack, but it was all dried and dehydrated, the sort of thing he wanted to save for long treks. Ash had wandered away to pawn off the extra guns and miscellaneous things she had picked up along the way. And she picked up a lot, always managing to fill her pack with an assortment of items. She spent a lot of time searching through things. He had been skeptical at first, impatient, but it had grown on him every time he saw her pull a carton of cigarettes out of the bottom of an old crate full of junk. It helped that she looked so happy with each find, blue eyes sparkling even if she didn't let herself smile.

She joined him at a picnic table a while later, a steaming hot plate of meat in her hands. She set it down next to his almost empty bowl and sat beside him. Her pack was noticeably less heavy when she put it on the table.

"Was it any good?" She gestured to his stew.

"Yeah. Not bad. You sell a lot?"

"Tons. She had some armor that looked interesting, but I decided to stick with what I've got. So now we have approximately a shit load of caps." She grinned. "You ever need anything, let me know."

"Yeah? Thanks."

She tore into her meal. It was something, to watch her eat. She packed a lot in. But she did do a lot each day. Hell, he needed to start eating more; he was losing weight. The thin layer of fat that had formed over his arms and stomach after he settled in Novac was rapidly disappearing. If he didn't take in more food, he could start losing muscle, and that was never good. He got up with his bowl to order a refill of brahmin stew. When he returned to the table after a few minutes, a newcomer was sitting across from Ash, grinning broadly. He eased back into his spot, legs sore.

Ash stopped mid-sentence and introduced them. "Boone, this is Veronica. Veronica, Boone."

Boone nodded. Veronica beamed. "Ash was just telling me about your adventures together. You guys sound like one of those old pre-war crime fighting duos." She cocked her head to one side. "You don't have the typical sidekick look, though, Boone. No offense."

He shrugged and sipped at his stew. It burned on the way down, but it was good. Ash directed the conversation away from him, which he appreciated. "Anyway, like I was saying, we're on our way to New Vegas. What about you?"

"I don't really have a destination, so to speak. I acquire things for my family."

"Your family? Where are they?"

"Oh, we live in a nice little hole in the ground. It's real cozy down there. I get sent out to bring back food and stuff. It's not that exciting. But what about you? Where are you from?"

"It's boring, really. I grew up in California and got sick of it, so I came out here."

"Psht, that's not boring. How'd you get into the business of mowing down legionaries and laying waste to Mojave bad guys? I mean, I'm guessing you didn't pick up your rifle yesterday, so where'd you learn to use it?"

Ash smiled. "I dated a Gun Runner a while back."

"Ooh, a Gun Runner? Give me all the juicy details, girl." Veronica leaned in close. Any more and she might as well have sat on the table.

"Oh, I dunno. Not a lot to tell. He was a nice guy. We were together for a couple years."

"Why'd you call it off?"

"His name was Cole, and I got sick of all the awful 'coal and ash' jokes." She laughed and Veronica joined in. "No, but… I don't know, we weren't doing it for each other anymore. We were just kids having a good time, and when the time stopped being so good…" She shrugged.

"That's too bad. So, you two been banging the nights away out here?"

Boone coughed and looked up from his bowl. Ash turned a fierce shade of red and shook her head. "No, can't say we have. We're not _together_."

"Seriously?" Veronica eyed Boone. "You've been with this little number for how long now? I mean, hey, if you like men, that's cool by me, but if not…"

He set his spoon down. "I'll leave you two to chat."

As he walked away, Veronica's voice called after him. "Was it something I said?"


	14. The All American Boy

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: THE ALL-AMERICAN BOY

* * *

She found Boone leaning on the rail of the overpass, looking over the waste to the lights of New Vegas, cigarette in his hand. She thought about leaving him be, but decided that he had to know about the recent addition sooner rather than later. Her feet brought her closer, slowly. He didn't notice, or didn't show a sign of noticing, until Ash was a few feet away. He nodded to her.

"I thought you only smoked cigars."

"Yeah. Usually." He took a long draw.

She lit one of her own. "I had stopped smoking a year or so back. Thought I'd do it for my health."

"What happened?"

She breathed the smoke out through her nostrils. "Got shot in the head and figured life out here is too short to worry much about long-term health."

"Mm."

"What about you?"

"Just a comfort. Cigars are better, but they're rare."

"Yeah, they are." She rested herself forward, arms on the railing, a copy of his pose. "Sorry about before. Veronica is… outgoing."

"Yeah."

Ash looked to her side, to watch him smoke. She hadn't exactly had any intimate thoughts about her companion. He wasn't the most gorgeous man she'd ever seen, but he was better than plain. Would help a lot if he smiled more. Or smiled _at all_. But he was more in shape than most, and was a damn good shot, and strength and guns and sweat and blood were sort of her thing. Not that it'd ever work out. He was too damaged, too broken up over his wife and who knows what else. Veronica had planted a seed, though.

She flicked the ash off the end of her cigarette. It drifted down to the ruined road below. "She wants to come with us. Veronica. Says she'd be helpful."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. What do you think?"

"Your call."

"Can I at least get your opinion?"

"She's outgoing." He might have smiled for a split second. It was tough to tell.

"You're hilarious." She brought her cigarette up to her lips and let it linger there until she finished her next sentence. "I want to bring her along."

"Fine by me."

"But if she gets on your nerves, tell me. If I had to pick, I'd rather travel with you." She wasn't sure why she had to add in that last part. Maybe she was subconsciously trying to flirt with him. _Dammit_, Veronica.

He glanced at her, eyebrows raised behind his sunglasses. His mouth opened briefly like he was about to say something, but he only nodded. They smoked in silence for a while after that. When the chill of the night fully set in, she stamped her cigarette out on the rail and turned to go.

"Hey, wait."

She looked back to him. "Hm?"

"Your hat's not in the best shape." He was reaching into his pocket for something.

"Thanks?" She reached up to touch it. It _had_ seen better days.

"Here, you can have this." He handed her a folded piece of red cloth.

She neatened it out in her hands and stared up at him. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Been carrying the spare around, haven't had any use for it. It's yours."

"Wow, Boone. Thank you. Thank you so much."

"It's no—"

She hugged him. She instantly regretted it because he didn't return it, not at all – had she really expected him to? – and he tensed and it was _awkward_. In an attempt to flee the situation, she stepped back, mumbled out another 'thank you', and walked quickly back to the tents. But it wasn't all bad. After all, she was now the proud owner of a 1st Recon beret. She might've not liked the NCR, but they did have nice hats.

* * *

"So, how's it look?"

Boone swallowed his mouthful of food and looked up from the table. Ash was standing proudly, hands on her hips, her dark hair tied back behind her head, red beret perched on top. She looked happy. "Not bad."

"Hm. When did you get up?"

"About an hour ago."

"What's on the menu today?" She eyed his plate.

"More steak. Here, you can have it." He slid it in her direction.

She sat next to him. "You sure?"

"Yeah. Full." He had already eaten two. Undereating had never been an issue in Novac, but last night he had realized that effort was necessary to avoid it out here.

"You ate more than just that bite, right?"

"Yeah. Like I said, got up an hour ago."

"Okay, good." She cut off a sizeable chunk of brahmin and chewed. "Mmm. Glad to know you're eating more now. You were losing weight."

"Yeah?" So it had been noticeable. Boone thought that only he and his belt knew.

"Yeah. Saw you weren't eating enough on our first day together. When we went to the Mojave Outpost, you barely ate as much as I did, and you've got more than a half a foot on me, not to mention a lot of weight."

He took a sip from his glass of water. "Didn't have to eat as much when I moved to Novac. Lately got used to barely eating at all."

"That's healthy." She bit into another slab, swallowing before she continued. "But I understand. When I left New Adytum for the first time I almost starved myself. Got real skinny before I figured that out."

"You're from New Adytum?"

"Yeah, born and raised. Well, spent most of my time in the outskirts, the Boneyard. But it all kind of blends together."

He ran a hand over his jaw. Stubble. He wasn't used to that yet either. He glanced over his shoulder for anyone else who was up, but nobody was awake in the dawn light but the trading post's owner, who wasn't anywhere nearby. Satisfied, Boone looked back to Ash.

"You asked me how I knew Carla was dead."

She paused in the middle of licking steak juice off of her finger and looked up.

He dropped his voice. Didn't want to risk anyone else hearing what he was about to say. "When I realized what had happened, that she was gone, I followed after them. They were easy to track. Thought I'd catch up with them fast, take them out from a distance, save her. But it took longer to find them. When I did, they were at a huge camp. Legionaries and slaves everywhere. They were selling them." He felt his jaw tensing and looked away from Ash and her worried eyes, towards the wasteland. "All I had was my rifle. Would've been suicide to run in and try to find her, and she still would've had to live like that." He swallowed. "When I saw her through my scope, I took the shot."

"Shit, Boone." He felt the warmth of her hand close over his own, which were balled into fists on the table. He looked to her. Her eyes were wide and concerned. Legitimately concerned, not pitying. Her voice was soft. "Nobody should have to go through that."

He pulled his hands back from hers. His mind scrambled for something to say, anything to pull him away from those dark thoughts. "So now you know. Never told anyone else."

"Thank you. Really. Thank you for telling me."

He shifted away from her, standing up from the bench. "Gonna go pack."

"Sure. And, Boone?" She waited until he turned around again. "You don't need to go through everything alone. Remember that."

He nodded and walked away.


	15. We Three

I'll likely be slowing down my update rate to less than daily, now that it's gift-giving season. But don't worry, I won't forget about this! As always, thank you to my readers and reviewers. Don't be shy if you want to critique or comment.

* * *

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: WE THREE

* * *

It was strange, traveling with someone new. Boone took his normal place a few feet behind Ash, but Veronica stayed right by her side. She was chatty, very chatty, and frequently talked with her hands, which could be scary with the huge metallic glove covering one of them. She was very forthright about herself and her motives. Hardly five minutes had passed on the road and Veronica was breaking it to them that she was a member of the Brotherhood of Steel, a scribe. Ash wasn't surprised; Veronica had asked for her thoughts on the Brotherhood shortly after Boone had excused himself from dinner the previous night. A question out of the blue like that generally came from genuine curiosity, not simply idle small talk. Boone didn't say anything, which meant he either didn't care, or he disapproved because of the strained history between the Brotherhood and the NCR. She hoped it wasn't the latter. Veronica clearly had no qualms with his allegiance.

"…So I mean, yeah, it gets _so_ claustrophobic down in there. I take any chance I can get to leave. What about you guys? Any fun and exciting tales of overbearing parents on your end?"

Ash had mentioned to her new friend that asking about Boone's wife was all kinds of bad, so she was glad to hear the question phrased around general family. Not that that was a subject _she_ cared for much. But she knew Boone wasn't going to speak first, if he would at all, so she answered. "Mine weren't the nicest people. There's not a lot to tell." She bit her lip. Damn, she'd have to stop doing that – she always said that there wasn't much to tell when there really was.

Veronica didn't seem to notice, though. Oblivious or suddenly very empathetic. "That's too bad. What'd they do for work?"

Ash rubbed the back of her neck. She was taken aback to feel her own skin there rather than rough draped cloth, not yet used to wearing a beret instead of her old headgear. "Like I said, they weren't the nicest people."

"Hm. What about you, Boone? Happy upbringing with puppies and rainbows and a white picket fence?"

He answered unexpectedly quickly, and with more than three words. "It was good, yeah. Grew up in NCR. My father wasn't around much. My mother was a saint."

"Aw, good news for once. Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"Had an older sister. Half-sister. Wasn't close with her. She got mixed up in a bad scene. Didn't end well for her."

"Yikes, so much for happy thoughts." Veronica frowned. "So, Miss Ash, where are we headed, exactly?"

"I'm… Well, like I said before, I want to get to New Vegas to deal with that guy, Benny. And I'm thinking that we ought to…" Hell, she couldn't really put this off any more, could she? She'd already dragged it out enough. Plus, she did have to take something back. "Yeah, we're going to New Vegas."

"Oh boy!" Veronica grinned. "I haven't gotten to go there yet. I keep asking but they never give me enough money to get in." She paused and her tone changed to a more thoughtful one, less girlish delight. "You know, if someone shot me in the head and I was somehow blessed enough to survive, I'd be less interested in getting revenge and more interested in running way the hell away in the opposite direction. There something else you're after, or are you just the really vengeful type?"

"Heh, yeah." Ash frowned a little. Thinking about it wasn't enjoyable. "He took my things off of me before he dumped me in the grave."

"What, priceless family heirlooms or something?"

"Not quite. He has my rifle."

* * *

Freeside was exactly as Boone remembered it. Grimy, foul, air saturated with the smell of cheap booze and chems. In some spots, piss or vomit. If you were really lucky, all of it at once. Ash and Veronica had been in awe of the bright lights during their approach, discussing what wonders lay past the great walls. He didn't say anything. Didn't want to ruin their mood. They skipped right on by the compounds outside; Ash looked at the Crimson Caravans with interest, but didn't so much as glance at the Gun Runners stall. Three Kings smoking outside the gates whistled at the two women as they walked by. Veronica blushed and smiled. Ash sent a rude gesture their way before heading inside. At Veronica's insistence, they made a beeline for the nearest and only casino, the Atomic Wrangler. They each got a room and then went their separate ways. Ash and Veronica were nowhere in sight when he came out freshly bathed, so he wandered to the bar. Whiskey always made the time pass by faster.

A woman in a suit poured his glass. "You came in with that girl with the same beret, right?"

He nodded.

"She's out settling some debts for me right now. And that means you get a discount, for having a helpful friend." She smiled.

He nodded again. "Thanks." And he drank. He wasn't about to do anything else. Freeside was a shit hole. There wasn't a whole hell of a lot to do, not that he was interested in, anyway. The Kings were weird. The Silver Rush was terrifying. Walk into the wrong side street and you could get stabbed and mugged, or worse. But he knew Ash could take care of herself better than most. So he sat, and drank.

When he had his fill, he pushed a pile of caps over and nodded to the bartender and stood. A little too suddenly. He wasn't drunk, not nearly, but he had that heady, tipsy feeling that came first, and quickly when he didn't eat. And he hadn't eaten, had he? He trusted the Wrangler's booze but not their food. He made his way upstairs, to the backpack in his room. Jerky always tasted so good with the lingering flavor of alcohol in his mouth. It snapped him out of his daze fast. But there wasn't much to do in his room. So he sat, and tried to figure out a pastime.

When light knocking came from his door, he was seated at his table, rifle in his lap, dirty rags around him. He looked up, called that the door was open, and returned to cleaning his gun. Ash stepped in and closed the door behind her. Her hair was still tied back but she wasn't wearing the beret he had given her. Her jacket was unzipped slightly. So she had been back for at least a few minutes now.

"Hey." She took the other chair.

"Hey."

"It's looking better. Your gun, I mean. Cleans up nice."

"Yeah. Gotta get back into the habit of cleaning it more, if we're gonna keep traveling like this."

"If?" She smiled.

He shrugged. "You get all the debts?"

"All but one. Veronica's pretty intimidating. But I've gotta go into New Vegas to collect the last one. How much are the passports again?"

"Two thousand, last time I was here. Doubt it's changed."

She nodded. "I have enough for all of us, then."

"Don't need to buy for me." He looked up. "I still have mine."

"Oh. Okay, then." She pulled out that silver lighter and reached into her jacket for a cigarette, but decided against it, apparently, and played with the lighter instead.

He set his rifle down on his lap. "Something on your mind?"

"Since you were so honest with me, I figured I would return the gesture." She bit her lip. "If you want to know, anyway."

He nodded.

"I've met people out here who say they left California because it was too boring, too quiet, too peaceful. They say the Mojave's got more flavor to it. But California only looks that way on the surface. Sure, they don't have the Legion to contend with, and most of the big gangs were pushed out here. But if you look beneath, there's more to NCR land than rolling fields of joy. I guess that's why I don't have much faith in the NCR."

He nodded. He'd always be loyal to the Republic, but they _could_ do things better. A lot better. Traveling with her made him see that.

She slid the lighter between her fingers. "My parents were… deeply involved in that hidden side. Drugs. Carrying out dirty work. Slavery. People think that slavery's long gone in NCR territory, but it's not. Slavers just downsized and learned to hide it better. So things weren't that great growing up. Lots of nasty people. Lots of things that I didn't understand then, but I do now, and…" She sighed. "They weren't that nice, my parents. Always got the feeling they resented me for showing up and slowing their lives down. They could be cruel. I'd always take any opportunity I could to leave the house. I'd hang out with kids on the street. I read a lot, too. Tons. Books were a good escape."

"That how you know so much?"

"Heh, I guess so. Anyway, things got real bad when I hit my teens, when they realized that I didn't want to have any part of their business. I started leaving more often, and for longer stretches of time, and they started getting more restrictive, more bent on keeping me around. I got worried they were gonna sell me off or something." She traced her finger over the pinup girl etched into the lighter's surface. "That guy I mentioned back at the 188, Cole? I met him through his little brother, who was my age, one of the kids I'd spend my time with on the streets. Cole was four years older than me but we hit it off and started dating. I felt safe with him. And I loved the Gun Runners. It was like one great big family. He taught me how to shoot, how to care for guns, how to repair all sorts of things. And when things got really bad at home, he helped me run away for good. I was still scared of staying in the city, scared they'd find me somehow. But they didn't, and everything was going well. Then, over three years since I left home, I saw him one day. My father. He saw me, too. He didn't run over or shout or anything. But he stared. And then I didn't want to stay anymore. Didn't feel safe. I had to leave for good."

"Did Cole go with you?"

She shook her head and looked away, and that bullet scar on her temple came into full view. "No. No, he stayed."


	16. What'd I Say

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: WHAT'D I SAY

* * *

Ash's eyebrows shot up. "Wait, did you just say what I think you said?"

"Hey, don't be so judgmental." The male half of the Garret twins crossed his arms over his chest, fingers nervously drumming on his elbow. "We've got all sorts of clients with all sorts of tastes."

"No, I get that. But… a sex robot?"

He shrugged. "You in or not?"

"Think I'll pass on this one. Not really my thing, no offense. But good luck getting them."

He frowned. "Yeah. Take care." He ducked back into the room behind the bar, head down.

Veronica slumped in the stool beside Ash. "That could've been fun, you know."

"Maybe, but I'd rather not build up a reputation around here as a gatherer of prostitutes." Ash tilted her bottle of beer until the cool, tart liquid hit her tongue. "The Kings have more serious problems, anyway."

"I guess." The scribe sighed. "Wish they had some milder options for drinks here. Can't stand the straight stuff."

Ash grinned. "I know a woman who would have a field day with you. But for now you could get a Nuka-Cola and mix in something hard. Takes the edge off. Used to drink that all the time when I was younger."

"Hm, maybe. How old are you, anyway?"

"Twenty-three. You?"

"Aw, you're just a baby. I'm twenty-seven."

They filled the time with idle talk, which came as a relief after running errands for the Kings. Boone, unsurprisingly, had opted to remain cooped in his room all day, moping, no doubt. Veronica had joined Ash on the streets, eager to experience all the bizarre things Freeside had to offer. She was inquisitive, if blunt, and Ash appreciated having someone around to chat with. Conversations with Boone tended to be quite one-sided. Veronica, on the other hand, had a lot to say. She wasn't shy at all about the Brotherhood, but she also wasn't naïve about its reputation, so she kept her voice down at the bar, and eventually they moved to a table to be more at ease.

"…It was just hard, you know? Seeing Elijah become so hell bent on all things technology at the expense of everything else. And then when I realized that the rest of them were like that, it was hard to keep my mouth shut."

"So they sent you out here, huh?"

"Pretty much. Sure, they tell me to get certain things for them, but it's a front so they can keep me from complaining to them all the time. Might as well be exiled. I love the Brotherhood, but at the same time…" She sighed and trailed off.

"I'm sure they'll come to their senses eventually. Everyone's gotta adapt out here."

"Or get wiped out."

Ash frowned. This conversation had taken a nosedive and she wasn't sure how to keep it from crashing completely. The last thing she wanted was a second depressed companion. "Hey, if it makes you feel any better, you've been a blast to have along."

That made Veronica perk up. "Oh you just wait. It's only been a couple days. I'm sure I'll be driving you insane soon enough. And speaking of traveling buddies, where's good ol' Boone at?"

"Wallowing in misery up in his room, I think."

"Well that won't do." Veronica stood from her chair. "We should show him a good time."

* * *

He knew he had been right to stay inside while Ash played savior to Freeside. He _knew_ it. But of course she had asked him to come out with her and Veronica for a bit, to take in the sights – the sights of trash piles and junkies, and junkies sleeping in trash piles, he guessed – and then she had smiled sweetly at him. Not much got to him, but a genuine, well-meaning smile could, so he gave in.

And then _this_ happened. Not five minutes after venturing from the Wrangler, someone behind him shouted, "Fuck the NCR!" and something heavy collided with his head and the ground came up to his face real fast and everything went black.

When his vision came back, it was blurry. He thought he could remember getting here, sitting on this cot in a tent, but it was all faded, dreamlike. His ears rang and his head felt awful. Ash was standing there with a blond man in a white jacket, but there were two of both of them. That wasn't right. He shook his head to clear the fog. The images lined up better, but not by much. They looked at him as he tried to stand, then the fabric of the tent began to spin, so he sat down again, rubbing his eyes.

He heard the man's voice. "Ah, are you back with us now? You were in the middle of noting your distaste for Freeside."

Boone squinted at the man. The dual forms almost made a single figure that way. "I was?"

"Yes. For the fourth or fifth time, actually. Even a minor concussion can muddle the mind."

"Concussion?"

"Yes, an injury to the brain. From the Latin _concutere_, which means… Oh, nevermind. Do you recall what happened?"

"Leaving the Wrangler. That's it."

"Ah. Perhaps your friend should fill in those pesky holes in your memory, then. I'll be outside, should you need anything." He turned and left. The white of his doctor's coat left a strange light trail.

"You feeling okay?"

He looked back to Ash and shrugged. "Head hurts."

"Yeah. We were walking down the street when these two guys popped out and yelled at you and chucked a bottle at your head."

He ran a hand over his scalp. No beret. He felt his eyes narrow. "Where is it?"

She frowned at him and pulled the red hat from inside her jacket. "Yeah, about that. You probably shouldn't wear it around Freeside anymore. Those guys didn't care for it so much."

He scowled and reached out for one of the two berets in front of him. He grabbed at the wrong one and his fingers went through air.

She sighed and placed it into his hand. "Anyway, you hit the pavement. I got you up while Veronica chased them off. She can be kinda scary. You were awake, sort of, but you weren't so hot on your feet so we had to hold you up the whole way here." She tilted her head to one side. "You're heavier than you look."

"Where are we?"

"Again? Already told you a few times. This is that old fort we passed by when we got here, the one run by the Followers."

"Oh."

"And, like Arcade said, you have a concussion."

"Oh." He looked down at the beret in his hand. How had that ended up there?

"He said it's not too serious, and – hey, are you okay?"

"Huh? What?" He glanced up again.

She was giving him a weird look. He didn't like it. "You should stay here and rest up. They can take care of you."

"They?"

She blinked at him, then poked her head out of the open tent flap. "Hey, Arcade? He's doing it again."

The doctor stepped back in and eyed Boone. "His memory will likely fade in and out for a while. Perfectly normal with an injury like this."

Boone frowned. "My memory's fine."

Ash sighed again. "Sure it is. I've gotta go find Veronica. Try not to get into any trouble, will you? And seriously, don't wear that in Freeside anymore."

Boone nodded, then looked down. Hey, why was he holding his beret? When he looked up again Ash was leaving the tent.

The doctor adjusted his glasses, then stuffed his hands into the pockets of his white coat, too white, almost blinding for Boone to look at. "You know, I could be doing far more important things right now than watching over a concussed vet with a fondness for hats, nice as said hat may be." He paused. "There's one promising area of my research in particular concerning cazador venom as a heart medicine. I don't suppose you'd like to hear about it?" He looked hopeful.

Boone blinked. "Wait, where am I?"

The doctor sighed heavily. "Didn't think so."


	17. The Great Pretender

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* * *

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: THE GREAT PRETENDER

* * *

She didn't like Pacer. Hadn't the moment he first talked to her and tried to cheat her out of caps. _Really_ didn't like him at all once she discovered that he was behind the conflict between the NCR and the Kings, even if it hadn't been too difficult to talk both sides down. But the King liked Pacer, and Ash liked the King, so there wasn't much to do in the way of personal retribution. At least there was peace now. She supposed she should be happy enough for that.

Freeside was calm at dawn. Veronica was back at the Wrangler, tasked with packing everything up, so Ash was left alone with her thoughts on the street. Everyone was asleep or unconscious at this hour. That giant rat she had seen some kids chasing the day before was the only source of noise as it picked through a pile of trash, but it skittered away as she passed by. And there was the spot where a bottle had collided with Boone's head, leaving him staggering and her strangely frightened. She had come to care for him in the weeks she'd known him. As silently abrasive as he could be, her travels wouldn't be quite the same without his presence.

She made her way to the fort, early light leaving a dull golden glow on the tents there. Despite his protests, she had insisted that Boone stay and rest up until he was entirely healed. Didn't hurt matters at all that she really liked the Followers. Julie was a kind woman, and Arcade had an astounding wit. Ash had talked at great length with both of them during her time in Freeside, to Julie about medicine and addiction and the King's dog, and to Arcade about research and history and, to her surprise, Latin. He was quick to sever any connection she might have assumed between himself and Caesar – not that she _had_ assumed one – and seemed to appreciate her curiosity on the subject. He had even offered to tutor her if she planned on sticking around, but she regretfully had to decline. Too much on her plate already, she had told him. Didn't want to lose track of everything else in the world. He had looked disappointed, but there was a deep understanding in his eyes.

Boone's tent was near the back of the compound. But not exactly _his_ tent anymore, as a skinny, worn man had taken up residence on another cot inside, apparently not dissuaded by any glares he might've received. Too wound up on drugs to care, based on the haggard paleness of the man's face. He was snoring, but Boone wasn't. He slept as quietly as he moved when they stalked Legionaries; nearly silent, although she was lighter on her feet than him. His old NCR pack was stuffed under his cot along with his rifle, brought by Veronica the night of the unfortunate bottle incident. He looked… not quite content in his sleep, but at least not angry. She wondered what he dreamt of, if anything. Lately she hadn't been dreaming at all.

Ash knelt by the bed. A thought occurred to her. Tentatively, she rested her hand on his chest. He stirred slightly but didn't wake. She could feel the dog tags through his shirt, and the heat of his body, and the slow, even beat of his heart. She closed her eyes. The warmth under her fingers was comforting, a feeling that she missed dearly from her time with Cole, a feeling that none of the flings back in California had been able to match. But who was she kidding? She swallowed, and when she opened her eyes again, she moved her hand to shake his shoulder. He blinked awake.

"Feeling better?" She pulled her hand away.

He sat up, reaching for his beret and sunglasses. "Yeah."

"You really shouldn't wear that." She nodded to the beret. Her own was stowed away in her bag with Veronica, hidden from the Freeside thugs' watchful eyes.

Boone stared at her – not quite a glare, but there was some emotion there, she just couldn't place it. The beret went on.

"Okay, have it your way, then. Can't say I didn't warn you." She sighed. "Anyway, your headaches gone?"

"Yeah." But he rubbed at his temple, either out of habit or in a lie.

"Good." She'd believe him for now. No sense in pushing for the truth if he wouldn't admit it. "We should head out. Got some business to finish up with the Kings."

* * *

It was strange here. Of course there were Kings all over the streets in Freeside, but to see a small army of them in one building, all in the same clothes and with the same hair and walking around in the same half-cocky, half-suave posturing… it was bizarre. The music was drawing the pain in his forehead closer to his eyes, sharp, stabbing. He felt Ash tap his arm lightly. He turned to her and bent his neck so she could whisper into his ear.

"This place is fucking _weird_, huh?" Her breath tickled, hot on his skin.

He nodded.

She moved to a door on the other side of the lobby, but he lingered. She glanced over her shoulder, brow raised. "You coming?"

He followed. They entered a bigger room, dimly lit, high ceilings, lots of tables but only one occupied. A young man was stepping down from the stage, where the lights were bright against the red curtains. When they reached the seated figure, a dog came into sight and growled low at Boone. No, not a dog, not entirely, but some sort of half-robot hybrid. He'd never seen anything like that before, although the brain casing reminded him of that one type of robot. Didn't have any idea how old the dog was, or the tech. Rubbed him the wrong way. It didn't seem to like him, either.

He snapped himself back to the conversation in time to hear Ash introducing him. "…And this is Boone."

He nodded to the man – the King – who was leaning back in his chair. Casual, calm. Suit was spotless. A hand reached down to stroke the fur on the side of the dog-robot's head. It eased and settled to the floor.

The King returned the nod, then turned his attention back to Ash. "I've got the passports ready for you." His voice was rich, smooth. Odd accent. He slid two slips across the table to her. "Shouldn't have a problem getting past those guards."

"Thank you." She picked them up and held them in one hand. "And everything's settled now? NCR's off your back?"

The King glanced at Boone's beret, then to Ash. "Should be, thanks to you."

"And Pacer? What about him?" Her tone had a hint of a bite.

He bent forward, hands on his knees. "You never walked in that man's shoes. He's got reasons for being like he is. I ain't saying he's a saint, but I trust him."

"Okay, I understand." She shifted slightly. "I wasn't trying to overstep my bounds."

"Not at all. I think right of you. You've done a lot around here. Normally I'd say it's all a matter of beginner's luck, but you've sure got a solid head on your shoulders."

She shrugged. "I do what I can. Oh, and about Rex? I checked in with Julie Farkas. She says there's a doctor out in Jacobstown who could fix him up."

"That so?" He rubbed his chin. "I don't know anything about science. In my line you don't have to. But if it's true, well, there's no chance I could take him all that way. I'd be much obliged if you could."

"To Jacobstown? I…" She looked down at the dog-robot, who cocked his head and stared back up at her. "I wasn't planning on going there anytime soon."

"Sooner or later, it doesn't matter much at this point. He's older than all of us. Freeside's seen better days, and I'd rather know he's safe with you, with a chance of getting patched up."

"If that's what you think is best, then, okay." She bit her lip. "I'll try to keep him safe."

He smiled warmly. "I've no doubt of that. Now, you should know, he hates rats. One whiff of 'em and he'll be off on their trail. And hats, too, he hates hats. Could never figure that one out. Other than that, he's the most obedient dog you'll ever know."

Ash's eyes darted quickly to Boone, then to Rex. "We'll keep all that in mind." She knelt down to the dog's level and scratched under his chin. "You hear that, boy? You'll be with me now."

The dog tilted his head and whined, but stood when Ash rose again. The King lifted his arm. "Till we meet again." They shook hands. "God bless you. Adios."

She smiled and walked away, tucking the two passports into her jacket, Rex at her side. Boone started after her, but felt the light touch of a hand on his arm as he passed by the King. He looked down.

"Just a minute." The King leaned back in his chair. "Take good care of her, will you?"

"Think she can take care of herself." Probably not the best idea, to be so blunt with the King. He didn't care.

And the King didn't take offense. "All the same, she's a rare kind. Watch her back, 'cause pretty soon folks will be throwing knives at it."


	18. At the Hop

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: AT THE HOP

* * *

Getting onto the Strip was exciting enough. Ash hadn't expected any of _this_, not at all. Leaving Veronica and Rex and Boone out in front of the Lucky 38 as she was ushered in. Meeting with Mr. House, or at least that giant monitor of him. And certainly not being given the presidential suite. She departed immediately after that strange encounter, half wanting to experience the room for the first time with her companions, half _scared_ of the whole place and the robots within. So she waved them into the casino, and Rex came first, bounding up the steps, apparently oblivious to the watching machines. Veronica followed after, eyes wide in awe as she entered, and after some hesitation Boone approached, expression masked as always.

She was nervous and excited and a thousand other things, but she tried to keep her voice steady in the elevator. "I haven't been up yet but, shit, it's the presidential suite, it's gotta be good."

Veronica ran her hand over the wall of the lift. "This is amazing. Nobody's been in here in… forever."

Boone shifted in the close quarters, where Rex was staring him down again. "What's House want you for?"

"That platinum chip I was delivering? He wants it. Bad. Wants me to get it from that guy, Benny. He used to be loyal to House but I guess he got an ambitious streak, and, _shit_, this is crazy."

"You're telling me." Veronica bent to scratch under Rex's chin. The dog temporarily forgot about Boone's beret.

The elevator came to a stop and the doors opened and they all filed out. It was bigger than she had imagined, much bigger, with five rooms each larger than the one back in Novac. Surprisingly the air wasn't stuffy or hot, likely cycled through the vents in the wall. Didn't smell like much of anything, and it was pristine. The kitchen was their first destination. That table seemed unnecessarily long.

Veronica was beaming. "A kitchen! A full kitchen!" She dropped her pack and bolted to the stove, testing out the various dials. "And it works! You guys put any food you have on the table. I'm gonna cook us up some grub."

Ash looked at Boone and he shrugged. They complied, piling up the edible contents of their bags: jerky, apples, carrots, potatoes, a tin of Cram, a few bottles of various beverages.

Veronica eyed the food and put on an expression of deep thought. "Not much, but I think it'll work."

With pots and pans clattering, Ash unzipped her jacket and draped it neatly over one of the dining chairs. Strange that plates were already set out. And no dust on anything, not that she could see – either there was a cleaning robot or the ventilation system was strong enough to keep grime from ever touching down.

"So I've gotta say, this is _awesome_, creepy robots be damned. I mean, a working stove?" Knife in hand and cutting board on the table, Veronica went at the potatoes with great zeal. She looked up after finishing off a small heap. "Whoa. Damn, girl, you're stacked."

"Huh? Oh." Ash glanced down at her chest. The deep V didn't hide much. "I guess. The jacket kinda… contains things."

"I'll say." Veronica returned to chopping. "Can't believe these knives are still sharp."

Boone had disappeared silently, likely not intent on sticking around in case Veronica lit something on fire. Ash ventured from the kitchen, peering into the living room, the gigantic master bedroom, the bathroom – were there _two_ in the same room? – and finally what looked like another bedroom. Boone was there, seated on the far bed with his pack behind him, running his hand over the sheets.

She stepped into the room. "So Veronica loves it here. What about you?"

He looked up and took his sunglasses off. "It's… odd."

"Yeah, trust me, I know it's eerie." She walked to the bed, sitting on the edge a few feet from him. "But I'd be a fucking idiot if I turned down an invitation from the guy who owns New Vegas."

He nodded.

"And it beats staying at any of the other places. I mean, sure, we've got creepy robots to deal with, but at least we don't have to contend with knife-happy junkies."

"The beds are nice, too."

She smiled. "Always the optimist, Boone."

He shrugged. "I try."

Ash felt a weird pang in her chest. He cocked his head. Had she looked at him strangely? She did her best to wipe the expression from her face. "So. You gonna hang around for a while?"

"I guess. Nowhere else to go."

"Okay, just… don't feel like you're tied down here. If you want to go back to Novac sometime, or anywhere, you can. Sometimes I feel like I'm keeping you on a leash."

He drew his brows together, almost alarmed. But it was Boone, so the emotion wasn't all that strong. "No. You're not." He looked like he wanted to say more, but whatever words he thought up stayed with him.

She bit her lip. "Okay. I'm gonna go explore some more."

* * *

"Oh wow. Wow. Where did you learn to cook like this?" Ash had barely swallowed her first spoonful. Boone was already on his fourth or fifth. Old habit from NCR mess halls.

Veronica twirled her spoon between her fingers. Her hood was off now, showing cropped dark hair. "Well, when you live in a hole in the ground, your choices for staying sane and happy come down to good food or good sex."

Ash grinned. "You say that like it was either one or the other."

Boone pointedly ignored that and focused on the food. Stew. Damn good stew at that, considering what little the scribe had to work with. The smell had lured him into the kitchen minutes before, where Veronica had been portioning out the thick soup. Meaty, delicious. Must've used beer in it, too.

Veronica's voice broke his thoughts. "You eat like someone's gonna steal it from you."

He looked up. "What?"

Her tone was playful. "You're hunched over your bowl like you've gotta protect it from a ravenous horde."

"Oh." He straightened his back slightly. Didn't feel right to sit up, though. "Always had to eat fast in the army."

This time, Ash spoke. "Why'd you join up in the first place?"

"Gave me direction." He shrugged. Didn't like the sudden attention. "I liked the discipline."

Veronica was grinning broadly, mischief in her eyes. "Ooh, so you're into _that_."

"What?"

"You know, like with – Hey!" She mock-glared at Ash. "Kicking me under the table isn't very mature."

Ash shrugged and returned to eating. What did – _oh_. It dawned on Boone and he bent over his bowl again in an effort to mask any embarrassment that might've shown through. He could deal with the mountains of vulgar talk that went on back when he enlisted, stone-faced even then if the need called, but stuck in a room with two women… it was different, somehow. They were more or less brothers in arms but they were also both attractive, no matter how much he tried to not care.

When they were done eating, Veronica collected the bowls and set herself to cleaning up. He wandered into the rec room and sat at the table, sorting through the poker chips that were laid out on it. Ash was soon seated opposite him.

She picked one of the chips up and examined it. "Crazy that I got shot over one of these. House wouldn't tell me what was so special about it, but it's gotta be some kind of tech."

He nodded. He honestly had no idea.

"You ever play cards?"

"Sometimes."

"You must have a killer poker face." She smiled.

"Yeah, I guess. Not really big on casinos, or Vegas."

She dropped the chip and propped her head up on her hand. "Like I said, you don't have to stick around if you don't want to."

"If I wanted to leave, I would."

Ash gave him that weird look again, the same she had made when they had been sitting on his bed before. "Okay. I like having you around."

He shrugged. The companionship was nice. The adventure, too. And he liked sticking with her, and even Veronica was growing on him, but he didn't know how to say all that without sounding gushy. So he didn't say anything.

That look faded from her face. "So you never told me whether or not you were at Bitter Springs."

"Maybe." Boone sighed and leaned back. "Yeah. I was there."

"What happened?"

"It…" He shook his head. "It was a long time ago."

"But it still bothers you."

"Look, I don't want to talk about it." His tone sounded angrier than he intended.

Ash sat back in her chair, arms crossed. "Fine. I'm just trying to help you."

When he didn't respond, she got to her feet and left the room. Boone watched her go, her body tense. What did she expect? He had never even told Carla, and he told Carla damn near everything. He didn't get why Ash was so curious about it in the first place. It was his struggle, _his_ burden. He'd dealt with it alone all this time. No reason to share it now. Absolutely no reason to share it with Ash of all people. She didn't like the NCR, didn't like authority. There was no way she'd understand.

Veronica's voice snapped him back to reality. She was standing, shuffling a deck of cards in her hands, looking hopeful. "You up for a game?"


	19. Let the Good Times Roll

Thanks to everyone who's alerted, favorited, or reviewed. :) You're all awesome!

* * *

CHAPTER NINETEEN: LET THE GOOD TIMES ROLL

* * *

A week slipped by at the 38, then another. Ash hadn't really intended to put off her dealings further, but news trickled down the grapevine of the Strip that Benny frequently took vacations elsewhere. This was apparently one of those occasions, according to that man at the Tops. Swank, his name was. Nice guy. Flirtatious. Eager to let her snoop around Benny's room once he knew of his plans for the future of New Vegas. Of course the chip wasn't there. Wishful thinking on her part. Her rifle wasn't there, either. Had he pawned it off? But it wasn't in any of the shops. _Shit_.

She passed some of the time at the casinos – Gomorrah, for the most part, since the Ultra-Luxe was too snobby and the Tops was Benny's lair. Last thing she wanted was to be playing blackjack there when he came back. Boone predictably didn't accompany her to Gomorrah, but Veronica did. They both liked the drinks. Veronica liked watching the female dancers. Ash could surmise from there. Other days were spent in Freeside, with the Followers. Boone came with her then, stubborn in his insistence to wear his beret, but gratefully there was no more trouble on its account. Arcade made for delightful conversation. She couldn't quite figure out why Boone went there, as he didn't speak much amidst the doctor's stunningly intelligent words. Maybe he didn't like the 38. He did, however, surprise her by humoring Veronica in her constant want to play cards. The scribe lost roughly every single time the hands were dealt but she never stepped down, and Boone never grew impatient with her. He would've been a good father, Ash thought. He could've been.

Then news drifted in that Benny was back and panic set in. They didn't understand it, her friends, and she couldn't put all that emotion out on them. She still didn't know how she was going to deal with it all. House was relying on her now. The pressure, the fear. It was combining into an awful feeling. If she didn't succeed, what then? What would she do?

She would be safe, at least. The Chairmen believed Ash's story, thanks to the evidence she had collected over her travels, and they weren't so keen on Benny either, now. Getting the chip would be another matter altogether. Attempting to steal it was out of question, as he probably always kept it on him. Shooting _him_ in the head would be a nice change of pace, but she didn't want to. Hell, all she really _wanted_ to do was curl up under a rock for a year or two until this whole New Vegas thing blew over. Maybe in the meantime the Legion would magically collapse and the NCR would get its shit together and then the deathclaws would turn into pacifists with a penchant for hosting tea parties. Just maybe. How the fuck had she gotten tied up in this, anyway?

Back in the real world, Ash was drying her hair. The bath had at least made her feel a little better. Clad in one of the fluffy white bathrobes she and Veronica had discovered, she left the bathroom and returned to her bedroom. She had slept well last night, as the report on Benny hadn't come in until around noon. It was evening now, and the casinos would be busy. Better that way, so she could approach him through a crowd. If he was even on the floor when she got there. She felt so… unprepared. Still, she had to continue, ignoring the knots tying in her stomach. It would all be over soon. Get the chip, return it to Mr. House. Easy, right? Nevermind the silly details about how. So on went the best almost-matching set of underwear she could find – as a way to inspire confidence, of course. The idea of seduction had crossed her mind but Ash couldn't decide if that fleeting thought was smart or utterly ridiculous. Then came a pair of jeans, ripped here and there but nicer and cleaner than her leather ones. A tank top, in which she tucked Lucky between her breasts, and then her jacket, zipped up to top off her look. Quick access to her gun if the need arose, without raising suspicion from any concerned parties. She neatened her hair out, leaving it down to cover up that scar by her temple. It would only make him nervous, to see that.

She breathed deep and checked herself in the mirror. Lucky was impossible to see under her jacket. She didn't look so bad.

She felt like she was going to puke.

* * *

Boone didn't like being back in the Tops, but Ash had asked him to come along so earnestly that he felt he needed to. This is what it had all been building up to, after all. Her whole journey. He wondered what she would do after it was all over. It was hard to imagine her without some sort of purpose, something to drive her on. But this was it. Hell, what would _he_ do?

It hadn't changed much since he was last here. Still brimming with gamblers and drunks. Enough to keep him from seeing the table where he had met Carla. At least there was that. The guards at the door had taken his rifle, a rule he had never liked about the Strip. Being unarmed made him uneasy. Ash had told him she had her revolver on her, although he couldn't figure out where exactly. And that was a good thing, because nobody else could tell either. She was a bright woman, he had to give her that. Usually confident, too. But today was different. Today she was afraid.

He went to the bar for a beer while she talked with a man at the front. Bottle in hand, he found a section of the wall to lean on and scanned over the casino floor. Busy night. Lots of people. Lots of money being thrown away. And there, at the far side, the man in the checkered jacket. Benny. Flanked by a few bodyguards. All at ease, though. Not expecting anything. He still didn't know how Ash was going to get to him and to the chip. Maybe she didn't know, either.

She was by Boone's side then, looking somehow smaller than usual. Her posturing, that was it. Wasn't self-assured like normal. "You see him?"

"Yeah." Boone jerked his head in Benny's direction. "Over there."

"Okay." She looked that way, rising up on her toes for a second for a better view. "Guards?"

"Three or four. Armed, but not on edge."

"Okay." Ash breathed in deep, shakily. She nodded to his beer. "Mind if I have a sip?"

He shrugged and handed it to her. She downed more than a sip. A few swallows, maybe.

"Thanks." She gave it back and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Her eyes were wide when she looked up at him. "I look okay?"

Boone tilted his head. "Yeah." Hell, even covered in dirt and blood she didn't look so bad, and here she was cleaned up. "You're okay."

She nodded. And lingered.

"You gonna go?"

She bit her lip. "Shit. Yeah."

As he watched her walk away, he found himself wishing his last words had been more supportive. Christ, he gave Veronica more assurance when they played cards, and the scribe was _terrible_. And now Ash was walking headlong into a nest of radscorpions and all he could manage was telling her she looked okay. _Okay_. What kind of encouragement was that? But it was too late now. She was halfway across the floor. And then she was there, right there in front of Benny, and even from back here he could see the man's eyes shoot open and his jaw go slack.

But Benny waved his bodyguards off after a minute, considerably more relaxed. Another minute passed and then Ash's posture changed dramatically, her weight on one leg, a hand on her hip, leaning in slightly. Boone couldn't see her face from here, but he could see Benny's. The man was smiling now, an off-center smirk. Smug. Boone didn't like it. Then Benny laughed and said something to his guards and walked, heading this way, towards Boone. No, past him. He stiffened against the wall as Benny moved by in a confident swagger, whistling some pre-war tune and leaving the musk of cologne in his wake.

Ash followed along few moments later. She glanced up at Boone. "You can go back to the 38 now." The fear was gone from her voice, replaced once again by poise. And there was a hint of something new in her eyes. Lust? He hoped he was wrong.

"Where are you going?"

She cast her gaze down and away. "Up to his room."

He felt his jaw tense. Some protective sense had awoken in him. "Doesn't seem like the best idea."

She looked back up at him. "Maybe. Maybe not. I can handle myself."

"You sure about that?"

Anger flashed on her face, though she masked it after a second. "Yeah. I'm sure."

Ash strode away quickly. He watched her go, then slouched against the wall. The beer tasted bitter now.


	20. He Will Break Your Heart

Happy holidays, faithful readers! I'll be visiting family for a bit so I won't be able to update for a few days.

Stupid decisions: everyone makes them sometimes! Hope you enjoy.

* * *

CHAPTER TWENTY: HE WILL BREAK YOUR HEART

* * *

"Hey, baby. Have a seat."

Ash forced out a smile and did as Benny said, moving to the couch even as her insides did summersaults within her. She _still_ didn't know what she was going to do, made even worse by the arousal she'd felt back when she'd flirted with him on the casino floor. Slight, but it was there. She chalked it up to not having any other way to get her kicks.

"So, are you a scotch kind of broad, or do mixed drinks make you tick?"

She looked up. He was over by his liquor cabinet, standing casually. It amazed her, how calm he could be. "Scotch is fine."

When he turned his back to pour the drinks, Ash shrugged her jacket off and swiftly pulled Lucky out of its warm hiding place, then rolled the leather around the gun and placed it on the table in front of her. Nothing suspicious at all about a bundled up jacket, right? Right. Benny returned with two amply-filled glasses and handed her one. The first sip burned on the way down, but it distracted her from everything else she was feeling.

He sat beside her on the sofa, one arm thrown over the back, perilously close to her shoulder. "Now, call me crazy, but I never expected to see your pretty face again. What brings you to Vegas, other than a hankering for some of the Ben-man?" He flashed a white-toothed grin and his eyes flicked down to her chest. He lacked the rugged dirt-and-sweat look she usually went for, but he was a handsome man nonetheless.

She took another sip. "Two things. First, that chip I was delivering."

"Straight to business, huh? Oh, baby doll, that ain't nothing to worry about. I've got it all figured out." He swirled the liquor around in his glass. "And the second thing?"

She swallowed. "You took my rifle."

"Your…" He paused to think, then the memory hit him. "Right! But can you blame me? I didn't want to let such a pretty thing fall into the Khans' hands. They would've sold it off to some finks or scrapped it for parts."

So there was hope after all. "You still have it?"

"'Course I do, doll. It's safe and sound down in storage. I'll get it for you later."

Ash sighed, relieved, and relaxed back into the couch. His hand grazed against her shoulder and then her neck, and the touch sent a shiver down her spine. She drank down what was left in her glass. Her cares slipped away. "So what's so important about that chip?"

"Baby, like I said, that's nothing to get worked up over." He was leaning closer now, his fingers still brushing her neck.

Warmth was building up in her stomach, and below. Part booze, part intense need for this sort of touch. She glanced at him. His eyes were beautiful. "I'm curious."

"And I ain't gonna tell you." Benny's voice was softer now. His hand slid around to her front, tracing the lines of her collarbones. He avoided touching the scar there. "Any other questions, baby?"

She bit her lip. Was she really doing this? "I guess not."

Gratefully, they skipped any small talk. She knew she only cared about one thing at this point, and he apparently felt the same way, because soon their lips were locked and they were moving to the bedroom and their clothes were coming off. If she was going to kill him, she might as well get laid first. God knows she needed it. Who else was she going to go for, _Boone_? Like he'd be interested. She knew it was pretty screwed up, fucking the guy who nearly killed her. But she felt like she had control here, and somehow holding dominance over such a dangerous and powerful man excited her.

For all his talk, he wasn't the biggest guy, but he _was_ very… hands-on, so to speak. That was a rare find. She started out on top, her fingernails leaving deep red lines across his chest. His version of dirty talk took some getting used to; he had amazing stamina, though, so she couldn't complain. And they shared the same appetite for sex, both ready to go at it again after a break for cigarettes and more scotch. It was fun. God, but it felt _good_.

Finally sated and exhausted, they slumped into the mattress. She rolled to one side and wiped the sweat from her brow, basking in the afterglow. His breathing evened out on the other side of the bed. She yawned and stretched and eyed the bundled leather of her jacket in the other room. Lucky was waiting patiently inside, ready to make the kill. But she wasn't, not yet at least. She laid for a while, considering her options. None of them seemed ideal. Her eyelids were getting heavier and she finally closed them. Only for a second, so she could relax. Only for a second.

When she opened them again, her head was groggy. Realization slammed into her and she sat bolt upright. _No_. She had fallen asleep. Not for very long, from how her head felt, but long enough for Benny to move. He was gone. No noise from the bathroom. His side of the bed was cold. _Fuckshit_. She stumbled out of the bed, tripping over the sheets, and pulled on her clothes hurriedly. The cabinets. She searched through all of them in his bedroom for any sign of that platinum chip, but _fuck_, of course he had taken it with him. She sighed and rubbed her eyes and rushed into the living room to collect her jacket.

There was a note there beside it, and something long wrapped in layers of fabric. Her breath caught in her throat. Was it…? The note she skimmed – she could reread it later to her heart's content – but the bundle of cloth she set upon, unwrapping it with steady fingers. There. It was there, just as beautiful as it had been the day Cole gave it to her. She cradled her baby in her arms. Her rifle.

* * *

Boone didn't sleep well. Too worried that Ash had gone and gotten herself shot in the head again. He had stayed inside the Tops for a while until the Chairmen started throwing strange looks his way – he wasn't gambling or drinking, only taking up space – then he lingered around the Strip. Waiting. He didn't know what for. Then at some late hour he begrudgingly went back to the 38, in great part because all of his belongings were there. Ash wasn't, though. If she still wasn't there by the next day he'd… he wasn't sure. He drifted off a few times but spent most of the night tossing and turning, listening to Veronica's slow breathing in the other bed. At one point he got up to take a piss and stubbed his toe on something in the dark and cursed loudly, but the scribe didn't wake up. She slept like a rock. That probably worked in his favor tonight. He didn't feel like talking to anyone. Well, less so than usual.

Sometime before dawn Boone gave up on attempting to sleep and wandered into the bathroom, splashing water on his face and pulling a clean shirt on. He checked himself in the mirror. Looked tired, no surprise there. But something else, too. Maybe he wasn't scowling as much as he was used to. He was happier here than he had been wasting away in Novac, probably. But he didn't hate himself any less.

He went to the kitchen next to begin his morning coffee routine, doing his best to ignore the robot stationed by the elevator. Creeped him out. At least the coffee was good. Hell of a lot better than the shit in the NCR, where they had to strain it with thin cloth or paper if they were out in the field. The stuff here didn't taste all that bad despite its age, and that press – he forgot the right name for it – never left any grounds in his mug. The kettle on the stove was almost at a boil when he heard the elevator doors open. Then Ash was there, stepping through the doorway to the kitchen, eyes drowsy and hair tousled. Had she…? Christ.

"Morning." She was carrying a long bundle of cloth, which she set down on the long table. A gun, by the silhouette. "You're up early."

"You're back late."

She shrugged her way out of her jacket and tossed it haphazardly over a chair.

The kettle whistled. He turned off the burner. "Coffee?"

"No thanks." She yawned. "Gonna take a bath and get some rest."

He nodded and poured the water into the press. "The chip?"

"Nope."

He stopped mid-pour to look up at her, brows drawn. "You didn't get it?"

"No. Benny ran off."

But not before she had her fun with him. But saying that to her wouldn't accomplish anything. "You going after him?"

"No idea where he would've gone." She was walking back to the doorway now.

"House won't be happy."

Ash paused and glanced over her shoulder. "Probably not. But he's not my boss." She smiled. "I don't answer to anyone. You should know that by now, Craig."

She left. Boone swallowed and continued emptying the kettle. He _should_ have been pissed about her behavior and especially about what she just called him, but he wasn't. Or at least there were too many emotions swimming around in his head now to make any sense of what he felt. With the coffee brewing, he turned to table. She didn't normally leave her jacket like that, wrinkled and half on the back of a chair. He sighed and picked it up to neatly drape it. Something fell from one of the pockets. A crumpled piece of paper. He knelt to grab it from the floor. Wasn't in his nature to eavesdrop, but he had unfolded the note before he could consider _not_ doing it. The handwriting was neat but rushed.

_Hey doll,_

_You sure know how to show a fella a good time. That was one hell of a night we had, huh? Don't find many girls these days who can go like that. You're aces, baby._

_But I've got business to attend to elsewhere. That chip you asked about is safe and sound with me, so don't worry your pretty little head. I'll be back on the Strip in no time, you just wait. Hold out for me and I'll get you in on this plan I've been cooking up. You can kiss your courier days goodbye. I'll be king of Vegas and you'll be right there at my side. It'll be the tops, baby._

_Now don't get all clingy and chase after me._

_Yours,_

_Benny_

_P.S. Like I said, I couldn't bring myself to pawn a gun that pretty to some fink on the streets. I snagged it out of storage for you. Don't get yourself into any trouble with it, ya hear?_

He bit his lip and jammed the paper back into the jacket. At least by some mercy Benny hadn't been graphic in his descriptions. But there it was, as if it hadn't been obvious enough: she slept with him. Even _considering_ spending the night with the person who put a bullet into your head was… bad. And carrying it out? He thought she'd go up to his room, get a few drinks in him, then kill him, or at least steal that platinum chip. But no. She had fucked him then let him get away. With the chip, no less. What the hell was wrong with her?

But he wasn't jealous.

Boone rubbed his eyes and turned his attention to the cloth bundle on the table. He had thought it was the right size and shape. Carefully, he unwrapped it. And it was _beautiful_. So beautiful that he almost forgot all about the Benny situation. Looked like one of those brush guns some of the Rangers had. Durable. Superbly made. And custom, too. Matte black body with delicately etched designs of silver and gold. No wonder she was so attached to Lucky; they shared similar color schemes and decorations, though this one lacked any white. Easily worth well into the thousands. He picked it up, feeling the weight of it in his hands. Not overly bulky, but it had some weight to it. No scope, just iron sights. When he pulled the rifle up to look through down the barrel, he spotted an inscription on the butt of it. He cocked his head. 'Morningstar', all capital letters, engraved in gold. He set the rifle down again, re-wrapping it with great care.

His coffee would be ready now.


	21. Quarter to Three

A big thanks to everyone who's reviewed, alerted, and favorited so far! THANKS, GUYS! Hope you all had an awesome holiday season.

This is kind of a transition chapter. Action-packed excitement will resume in the next update, which should come along pretty soon.

* * *

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: QUARTER TO THREE

* * *

Ash slept through most of the day, waking occasionally but dozing off again soon after. It wasn't until a brief vision of House's unmoving green-hued face came to the forefront of her mind that she rolled out of bed. She put her clothes on slowly and took her time pulling her hair back into a neat bun – anything to delay the inevitable while she tried to come up with excuses. What was she going to say? Oops, fucked the guy and let him get away, sorry. She sure hoped it would sound better by the time she got to the penthouse. But like she had said to Boone, House wasn't really her boss. Wasn't like he could do much to her. Right?

Veronica and Boone were in the living room, playing cards for the billionth time, maybe. The scribe's voice carried on as it always did, but Ash didn't linger to hear the current topic of the one-sided discussion. Rex whined up at her as she hurried to the elevator, and she paused to scratch under his jaw before leaving. Sweet dog, even if he was half metal. So quiet and well-behaved she occasionally forgot he was there. She hit the button in the lift and soon enough the doors opened to House's brightly lit floor. She didn't get why he kept the penthouse lights so damn high while every other floor was dim. Except the cocktail lounge, maybe, but she only went there to restock the alcohol stores in the suite.

She passed by the whirring police securitrons, and that dark-haired 'female' one whose name she could never remember, down the stairs and through the curtained doorway, past the tall windows. Outside, the sun was getting lower, at its midpoint between noon and dusk. The Strip below kept the sky hot. Inside, Ash stood her ground in front of the monitor, hands crossed behind her back, fingers working against one another. Why she got so nervous around here she didn't quite know, maybe just the sheer size of the screen, or the unwavering expression on his –

"Ah, so you've returned at long last. I trust your rendezvous with Benny went well." House's voice was eloquent and calm, but something about his voice unsettled her as always.

She swallowed. "Well enough, I guess. He was back at the Tops last night."

"Yes, so I heard. And you managed to avoid a repeat of your first meeting with him, which I will take as a positive sign. However, he was seen leaving the city well before dawn. I assume you gained ownership of the chip prior to his departure."

Ash coughed. Her throat felt dry. "I, uh… No, not exactly. He snuck off before I could –"

"Oh." A pause hung in the air. "I see. Had I known you had been incapable of carrying out your mission, I would have cut him off at the gates."

She drew her brows together. "Look, I tried to —"

"Yes, you tried. Perhaps I've grown accustomed to dealing without the human element. Unpredictable, truly. But do not misunderstand me – I am not upset. If anything, it's merely a delay. I know exactly where he's headed."

"I – Oh, you do?" She blinked and relaxed.

"Yes. There is a bunker across the Hoover Dam which is accessed using the chip, and that bunker is his destination."

"Oh. You want me to go there right away?"

"No, no. Benny will have to prepare for the journey and find a suitable disguise, and that will likely take some time."

"A disguise? Wait, across the Dam is Legion territory."

"It is. Caesar sits almost directly above the bunker. And that, too, is precisely another reason why you should bide for time. From what I understand, your relationship with the Legion is less than desirable. To rush off into their midst would hardly be an intelligent choice, providing that you value living. Something tells me that you'll hear from them soon enough regarding our dear Benny."

"Oh. Okay." This wasn't at all what she had expected. "So just… hang around until someone shows up?"

"Or until I give you further instructions, yes. As I said, Benny has a great deal of planning ahead of him to bring his ideas to fruition."

"Okay. Got it." Ash turned to leave.

"Ah, and one more thing before you go."

"Yes?"

"Do try to avoid getting yourself killed out there."

* * *

Veronica was talking again. Or more aptly, she had not stopped talking. In some faint way, she reminded Boone of Carla, who had been able to pull conversations out of thin air. Back long before any of this had happened, back when they first met in Vegas, he would visit her at the Tops when she got off work and they would walk up and down the Strip together, fingers entwined, and look up at the faded night sky. She'd talk about everything, anything, and she made it all sound so interesting. Carla would talk until the sun rose and he'd listen to it all. He had smiled back then, back before all of this.

"…And it's like, come on, guys, _of course_ pneumatic systems are way more reliable long-term." Veronica was eyeing the cards in her hand with great focus. "How the hell couldn't they know that, you know?"

Boone nodded. Carla had been much more well-spoken.

"Hmm." She reached up to scratch her head under that hood. Wasn't sure why she kept wearing it inside most of the time – maybe it was like Ash hiding the scar on her temple, except Ash had stopped doing that a while ago. Veronica laid her cards down on the table in a dramatic flourish. "Straight! Can't win 'em all, beret boy."

He shrugged and set his hand down for her to see.

"Ha! You've only got… Oh, come on, _really_?" She threw her hands up and leaned back. "I swear you cheat."

He slid the cards into a small pile to one side. "How?"

"You clearly… uh… Shit, I don't know." She frowned. "Maybe you're telepathic like that kid at the 188."

"Doubt it." There was a telepathic kid at the 188? How had he missed that? Boone shuffled the deck. "Like I've said, you show too much. Give away your whole hand in your face."

"Yeah, I was never one for withholding emotions. And hey, no more." She nodded to the cards. "You've crushed my enthusiasm for poker. For now, at least."

He breathed out a small sigh of relief. Not that he minded playing, but he thought she would've tired of it long before now. And she sure wasn't a challenge. Veronica was standing up when the elevator returned, and Rex bolted from his spot in front of the television to greet in the form of a bark.

"Hey, boy." Ash's voice. "Aw, you're always so happy to see me." She appeared in the doorway, looking surprisingly put together, all things considered. Rex padded along after her. "Hey, guys."

Veronica grinned. "Hey, sleepyhead. Where'd you run off to?"

Ash shrugged. "Had to clear up some things with House."

"Oh, sounds fun. You hungry? I can start on an early dinner."

"Sure." She stepped in as Veronica left, taking her seat at the table across from Boone. "Hey."

He nodded. He wasn't so sure how to go about things, not after last night and this morning. Ideally, he supposed he should forget about it all.

"So I heard something on the radio before about Fiend troubles at McCarran. You up for some old-fashioned problem solving tomorrow?"

He might've let a hint of amusement show on his face at that last phrase, because she raised her eyebrows. "Veronica, too?"

"Nah, just you and me, like the good ol' days of… last month." She smiled, warmth in her eyes.

He opened his mouth to respond but Veronica's voice carried in loudly from the next room. "You know, I can hear you guys in here. You're not being very subtle about going out without me."

Ash leaned towards the door and shouted back. "I don't think it's your kind of outing." She returned to her normal volume and addressed Boone again. "So, what do you say?"

He nodded. "Sure."

Veronica called in again, tone rich in mock displeasure. "Oh, fine. I see how it is. Don't mind me, I'll just be holding down the fort with Rex here." The dog whined from somewhere in the kitchen. "Hey, no, that's not what I meant, boy…" Her voice trailed off, likely whispering reassurances to Rex.

Ash was holding back an all-out grin. "So, anyway, good to have you along." She nodded to the deck on the table. "You up for a game, or did Veronica tire you out?"

Boone nodded. "Sure." He hadn't seen Ash play cards yet. He hoped she was better than Veronica. She _had_ to be better.

"As long as it's not Caravan. Could never figure that out. I'll be right back." She left the room and returned a minute later as he was shuffling the deck. She sat and put her sunglasses on.

He raised a brow. "Really?"

She shrugged. "You've got a stone face. I've gotta match that somehow."


	22. Rip it Up

Happy New Year! Let's usher it in with some Fiend hunting! As always, a huge thanks to my readers.

* * *

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: RIP IT UP

* * *

Boone was more at ease at McCarran, as he had been at Helios One. Almost made Ash feel guilty for not liking the NCR. Almost. There was something between him and Major Dhatri based on the way they saluted and postured themselves. She assumed Bitter Springs was involved, but she didn't question it. She was more interested in the camp itself anyway, so once Dhatri explained the bounties, she wandered off to explore while Boone caught up with the handful of First Recon snipers stationed here. Or was that the entire squad? Seemed awfully small.

The airport seemed so vast. Not that huge buildings were foreign to her – the Boneyard had plenty of them, or at least their remnants – but it was surprising to see one in the middle of the Mojave. The ceilings stretched up far above her head and the wide corridors went on and on. How had it looked in the Old World, when it was fully functioning? Planes constantly arriving and departing, people bustling through the halls with luggage. But that world was gone now, washed away like a quick wipe of a chalkboard, leaving ghostly remains. But at least the airport was getting used. She had heard the NCR even had a monorail up and running here for fast troop transport. That'd be something to see. Later, maybe.

Curiosity and architectural interest sated after some time, Ash returned to the tents out front. Boone was there, talking to a handsome man in a red beret. They looked up as she approached.

The new man nodded to her. "That beret looks good on you."

"Oh? Thanks." She extended her hand. "Ash."

He shook. "Gorobets. Boone tells me you're a great shot."

"That so?" It was hard to keep a smile from forming as she glanced at Boone, who shrugged and looked away. "I guess I'm not half bad."

Gorobets smiled, too. "You ever think of joining up? We could use more talented women."

"Sorry, not really my thing. Anyway, we've gotta go deal with your Fiend problem."

"Be careful out there." Something about him reminded her of Boone. A more charismatic, outgoing Boone. "They've done a number on us. Especially Cook-Cook, with what happened to Betsy… Whatever you do, don't get too close to him."

Betsy must have been the lone female in First Recon, the one who had stared none too subtly at Ash earlier. She nodded. "I'll keep that in mind."

Gorobets walked off, and Boone crossed his arms over his chest. "What's the plan?"

She looked to the sky. The sun was dipping down and in an hour or so the clouds would be red. "Might as well bring them all down at once. It'll fuck with them more that way."

"You sure that's a good idea? It'll be dark soon, harder to see them."

"And they won't be able to see us at all, not if we're careful. Okay?"

He nodded.

"Right, so we can start with Driver Nephi." She pulled a piece of paper from her jacket, the map of Fiend territory that Dhatri had scribbled out for her. "And then Violet, and then Cook-Cook."

"Saving the worst piece of shit for last?"

Ash looked up, surprised. "Yeah, something like that."

* * *

Boone had been right: the Fiends were tough to see in the fading light, their tan figures and dirty clothes melding into the sand and concrete. But he hadn't expected them to be so loud. A mix of drugs and lawlessness had them cackling and yelling, shouting crude jokes to each other across the ruins or begging one another for chems. They didn't even react right away when shots rang out, too rattled to return fire immediately. He took out most of the far-off targets through his scope while Ash used her black rifle – Morningstar – to pick off any that got closer. Boone had asked earlier why she didn't attach a scope to it. She replied that she trusted irons more than anything. There was something else he wanted to ask, too, but that could wait.

The idiot with the golf club had been almost laughably simple. They killed the Fiend guards in a series of quick shots, then out from the building ran Driver Nephi, rushing straight at them with a golf club raised over his head. Then he was down, and Boone set about the grisly task of decapitation. Ash hadn't asked him to deal with it, but he felt he should do it nonetheless as a courtesy. Plus, she didn't carry a knife with her, not that he knew of. He'd have to talk to her about that later. Always had to have a close combat weapon. Never knew what could sneak up and disarm. She snorted out a remark about the NCR being unable to clear out the Fiends. He ignored it. The Fiends _expected_ the NCR, were always on watch for them. Hell of a lot easier to sneak into their territory without a uniform, without following the soldiers' usual routes and formations and times of movement.

Violet proved more difficult, in great part because her dogs caught their scent from far off and barked and howled and charged out at them. He shot the Fiend in the leg once he caught sight of her, to keep her from running, then focused on the hounds. Ash was already firing on them, but she was backing away, too, scared that they'd reach her. There had at least been cover near Driver Nephi's post, but here was wide open land. Nothing to hide behind but small rocks. Boone didn't like the sparse surroundings, but she seemed to _hate_ it, even ducking behind him when the two remaining dogs were mere yards away. He was about to resort to his machete when her revolver sounded off by his side, too close for comfort. The dogs slumped and his ears rang. She ran forward to finish Violet off.

Full night had overtaken the landscape by the time the second head was in Ash's pack. She wasn't very pleased with it. "Yeesh. Gonna have to buy a new bag when we get back."

"Blood comes out if you get to it before it dries. Just have to be thorough."

She eyed him as she stood, dusting her knees off. "Oh, I know. I think _all_ women know that. But that's not really the point. I mean… it's got a bunch of heads in it."

He shrugged.

"This whole ordeal is strange. Collecting heads, I mean." She carefully pulled her backpack over her shoulders, as if it might explode in a bloody mess if handled incorrectly. "Sure, it's the easiest way for Dhatri to know if they're dead, but… what next, are they gonna start putting them up on pikes around McCarran?"

"The Fiends do worse than that. The Legion does worse." Boone started walking to their next destination.

Ash followed, and was soon by his side. "Of course they do, they're fucking junkies and rapist slavers. Guess I figured the NCR would handle it differently, that's all."

He shrugged again.

"I'm not saying it's _wrong_. Just weird."

He didn't reply. His mind had drifted to a different topic.

"Oh, come on, don't get all silent again."

"You called me Craig yesterday."

"Huh? Did I?"

"Yeah. You did. When you got in, in the morning."

"Oh. Sorry. I wasn't really awake."

"Yeah. Just don't do it again."

She paused. "Why does it bother you so much?"

"I… Carla. The way she said it, I don't want to forget that."

Ash swallowed. "Sorry." She bit her lip then opened her mouth, on the verge of talking again.

But he interrupted it before it could happen. "It's up ahead."

The hollowed-out building was like all the others they'd seen, but with a campfire burning within. Figures moved around inside. He crouched for his approach and heard Ash do the same a couple feet behind him. Still not much cover in the area. Rocks, a patch of dead grass, more rocks. Finally he settled for a slightly larger rock to balance his rifle on and he nestled down against the earth. He peered through his scope while Ash deposited her pack nearby. Half a dozen men and women, helmed with skulls, all sitting down on overturned buckets.

"What do you see?" She was close, whispering.

"Handful of Fiends. Think they're eating dinner. And the – _Shit._" Everything went dark. He scowled and glanced up from his rifle, then through the scope again.

"What? What's wrong?" Panic in her voice.

"Brahmin walked in and blocked my sight. There, it's gone. One guy with a flamethrower next to him. Must be him."

"Guess so. You think you can get all of them?"

"Yeah." Maybe. He'd have to realign after each shot, then reload, and who knows how much distance they could cover in that time. "Don't sit so close."

He heard her sigh. "Okay, okay." She got to her feet and took a few steps back.

Boone spent another minute thinking. The ones without guns could wait, as could Cook-Cook; that flamer was too heavy for quick movement. He took aim on the one furthest to the left, who had a rifle or a shotgun. Breathed in deep. Breathed out slow. Pulled the trigger. His view jerked slightly but he brought the rifle down even again. They were dropping their bowls. In, out, pull. One reaching for a pistol went down. Pull. _Shit_. Only got his leg. In, out, pull. One more dead. And one more shot. Pull.

He reloaded as fast as his fingers would let him. Two shots from Ash's rifle sounded off above and behind him, and when he looked through his scope again, the one he had hit in the leg was gone, and a dark lump was by the building. The brahmin. Boone took aim at Cook-Cook's legs, disabling him before he could make it too close. Hadn't there been another one? Maybe Ash got it.

A stifled grunt reached his ears and Boone released his grip on the gun and whipped around. Ash was standing – no, that wasn't Ash, that was a Fiend and Ash was on the ground at its feet and it delivered a swift kick to her torso and Boone lunged. A woman, he registered as he slammed her to the ground, holding the hand with the knife down, his machete soon in his other hand, and then all was still. He stood, pain hitting him in his knee. Must've banged it.

"Ow, _fuck_."

He turned. Ash was curled in the dirt. "You okay?" He knelt and put his arm out to help her up.

"Yeah. I've had worse." She took his hand and they stood together. She braced against him for a moment, her body warm, before straightening herself out. Almost fully upright, she winced and grabbed at her side. "_Fuck_."

"You sure?"

Ash snorted and flashed a pained grin. Had he said something funny? "I'll be okay." She looked up. Small cut on her cheek, probably from a rock. "Am I bleeding anywhere?"

He leaned in closer to see. "Yeah, you are. Here." Before he could think, one of his hands was holding her chin up and the other was wiping the blood from her face. Boone paused when he realized the intimacy of the touch and dropped his arms back down and stepped away.

She blinked, her lips tilted in a half-cocked smile. "Thanks."

"Yeah." He shifted his weight between his feet and bent to pick up his rifle. "We should get going."

"Sure. Lead the way, soldier."


	23. Stay

Gonna try to set up a writing schedule for myself so I can update more for you lovely readers. 3

* * *

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: STAY

* * *

"Well, it could be worse." Arcade's hands were warm through the fabric. "I'll need you to take off your shirt."

"Sure."

Ash had already discarded her jacket. Her t-shirt proved tougher, the act of pulling it over her head sending sharp pains through her side. When the cloth was cast aside and the tent came back into view, Boone had suddenly found a stain on the ground immensely interesting. Anything to avert his eyes, she guessed. It wasn't like she was fully topless – bras existed, after all. Sweet of him to be so shy about it. Cute, even, but cute was hardly a suitable word for Boone.

"Lay back. Keep your breathing slow and deep, if you can." Arcade waited until she complied to press his fingers against her sides. "Have you ever thought about wearing something a _tiny_ bit heavier and more protective?"

Deep breaths hurt, but she did her best. "Not really. Leather's easy to move in. Everything else is too bulky."

"And everything else would be far more suitable for preventing bodily harm, like, say, being shot." So he had noticed the scar on her shoulder from Nelson. "Or stabbed." And the one on her side from New Reno. "Or, I don't know, violently kicked in the ribs by a Fiend."

"Hey, I wear more than some people. Boone runs around in a t-shirt, and he gets shot at just as much as – _ow_."

Arcade instantly released the pressure he had been placing on her torso. "He must be better at dodging, then. You said that breathing hurts?"

"Yeah. Is it bad?"

"The good news is that it doesn't appear to be broken. An injury like that would call for at least a month of rest, if not two. Probably two in your case, given your propensity for finding dangerous situations." He straightened and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his white lab coat. In the tent next door, someone vomited. Busy night at the Mormon Fort. "They _are_ bruised, however, and you _will_ have to take some time off from attempting to save the world. You can put your shirt back on."

She sat up and did so, awkwardly and slowly to avoid as much pain as possible. Boone was at least looking in her direction now. She reached for her jacket. "What should I do?"

"Ideally, avoid being kicked in the ribs anymore. Or punched or hit, for that matter."

Ash smiled. "Anything else?"

"I'd say to apply ice but, unfortunately, we live in a desert." He adjusted his glasses. "By all means, take pain medication if you feel you need to. Sadly, we're desperately low on supplies here so I can't offer you any, but Dr. Usanagi at the medical clinic can help you out. It's outside, by the Crimson Caravan compound."

"Yeah? Okay, I'll look into it." No she wouldn't. She'd deal with the pain. "Guess we'll be going. Sorry for taking up your time."

Arcade shook his head. "Not at all. I don't mind a break from my research now and then. Take care, you two."

Ash and Boone departed, weaving their way through the drunks and addicts and gamblers in the Followers' fort. In Freeside, a few Kings nodded to her. It was strange, being recognized like that. Back in Goodsprings it wasn't so odd, since it was such a small town with so few people. Same with Primm. But in Freeside? In _Vegas_? The attention could be exhilarating. For now the sharp stabbing in her side whenever she drew in breath kept her ego in check, though.

When they passed through the door splitting Freeside in half, Boone cleared his throat. "Going back to McCarran tomorrow. You should stay in and rest. I can get the meds for you."

"Yeah?" She looked up at him. How unexpectedly sweet. "Er, but you don't need to."

He shrugged. "I'm going out anyway."

"No, I mean… I'd rather not take any."

"Thought it hurt."

"Oh, it does. But I'll take pain over getting hooked."

He nodded.

"But thanks for the thought."

"Yeah. It's nothing."

She thought it was something.

* * *

"You sure you want to go alone?"

"Yeah." Boone rolled up a clean shirt and stuffed it into his pack. "You're not in any shape to do it."

Ash frowned at him, but the expression didn't seem so serious given her fluffy white bathrobe. She was seated on the edge of his bed, leaning back, one hand holding her side. "You could bring Veronica. She likes traveling, and those ranger stations are all over the place."

"Then you'd be here alone." A few pairs of socks went into his bag. Always important to have fresh socks. Fungus could get nasty real quick in the heat.

"So?"

"So, you'd do something stupid." He tried to inflect some lightness in his tone, in the hope that she'd get his humor, if he could call it that.

She raised her brow, but smiled. "You're probably right. But the stations are so spread out, you'll be gone for a while."

"I'll walk fast."

She sighed. He went to the kitchen to fill his canteen and fetch a couple bottles of water. He had gone to McCarran earlier, to make use of the hair clippers there to give himself a cut, and to talk to Gorobets more. The lieutenant had mentioned strange reports coming in from Rangers all over the Mojave and Boone immediately agreed to look into it. Felt good to be doing something for the NCR again. Even if it meant a lot of walking and not much else, it'd help. Faulty intel was _bad_. He knew that much from experience. When he returned to the bedroom, bottles in hand, Ash was laying on his sheets, lower legs dangling off the edge of the mattress. Wasn't sure how he felt about that. Didn't like people invading his territory. Both of her hands were on her side now.

"Hurts?" He dropped the bottles into his pack, then arranged them neatly.

"Yeah."

"Sure you don't want the meds?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. I get addicted easily. Runs in my blood, I guess."

He nodded.

"You said Foxtrot is by Jacobstown, right?"

"Yeah."

Ash sat up, wincing. "You should bring Rex with you. Meet with that doctor up there and figure out what he needs."

"He's with Veronica now."

"I know, but they'll be back soon. She's just getting groceries."

"I…" He frowned. He felt like an idiot saying this. "Rex doesn't like me."

"Oh, he likes you just fine. It's your beret he doesn't like. He's a sweet dog."

He sighed. "Okay."

"Good." She stood, holding his forearm for a second to help herself up. "I won't worry so much if he's with you."

"You're worried?" He was almost insulted. Hell, he'd been in 1st Recon, he could take care of himself. But the look in her eyes was a different kind of concerned.

"Maybe a little." She shrugged and glanced away, arms crossed over her chest. "You're a good friend. Don't want anything to happen to you, that's all."

"I'll be okay."

"I know." She smiled. "I'm gonna go lay down for a bit. If you leave before I wake up, then… I'll see you soon. Be safe."

Boone nodded.

She lingered and tossed him one of those strange looks she'd sometimes give him – and only ever him, from what he could tell – but left the room without another word. Wished she'd tell him whatever it was she meant by it. He watched her go. So she didn't like saying goodbye. Fine by him. He didn't like it, either.


	24. Please Mr Postman

Sorry for the delay. Still gotta get my schedule together. But: Adventure Time with Boone and Rex, Part 1! (thanks, neko-hime-cfi!)

* * *

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: PLEASE MR. POSTMAN

* * *

After Boone left, it hadn't been difficult to convince Veronica to go, too. She had seemed homesick for the Brotherhood as it was so once Ash brought up the idea of visiting, the scribe packed her bags and headed out. Just a quick visit, back in a few days. That was plenty of time for Ash to leave and come back unnoticed. Like she was going to let a bruised ribcage keep her inside; it's not like it was _broken_ or anything serious. And so she had suited up and walked out of New Vegas, down past the 188, where the steak still smelled good on the grill. Cass, hopefully, would be at the outpost again.

The sun beat down from its afternoon perch by the time she reached Primm Pass. Making her way up the hillside cramped her torso where she had been kicked, so Ash eased herself down onto a rock and admired the view. Below, three coyotes fought over the corpse of some fallen creature, uninterested in her. Above, birds circled in the cloudless sky, backlit by the heat of the sun. Already a rich red-orange, it'd only get bolder as it dropped deeper towards the ridged horizon. Quiet, too. Times like these, when the sky was beautiful and the only noise came from the breeze, made her long for a warm body to lean against, for a hand to hold hers. But it didn't seem possible now, now that she was caught up in something so big and daunting. Too bad, really. Maybe in another life, in another set of circumstances, she would've tried for something with Boone. She smiled. Cole had always talked about alternate universes. Back then she brushed it off as silly.

Once the pain subsided, she rose and hoisted her pack over her shoulder, followed by Morningstar. More a comfort than anything. Not like she expected to run into much trouble out here; Mr. New Vegas had nothing but reports of peace from this area. Of course Vipers still patrolled around, but they tended to stick to the big roads, where the travelers were poorly armed and the caravans well-stocked. The hills were safe.

Halfway through the pass, Ash realized that she had been very, _very_ wrong.

Her immediate response to seeing the hulking tan beast was to stop. Stop _everything_: walking, blinking, breathing. Not that any of it would help. Deathclaws were notoriously sharp-sensed. It hadn't noticed her yet, its body hunched towards the opposite direction, but it would, and when it did, she was fucked. Completely, entirely fucked beyond belief. Its tail swayed and its claws, massive and deadly, hung idle at its sides. She had seen one once, from very far away through a pair of binoculars at Sloan. Before then, back in California, she only heard stories. There had been a pack in the Boneyard once, long before she was born, cleared out by some brave hero. None of it mattered now. All she cared about was pressing herself as close to the rock wall as she could manage. Maybe if she tried hard enough, the earth would open up and swallow her whole. She could hope.

Then it turned. Her heart jumped into her throat and all she could think was _no._ It sniffed the air, nostrils flaring, hideous teeth bared for her to see. Its face was scarred deeply, and it was clearly alone – exiled from its pack, maybe. It sniffed again. Her scent _had_ to be there. But it wasn't looking at her. It wasn't looking at anything. Its eyes were clouded.

It was _blind_.

Ash swallowed. Small miracles. Only a waiting game now. It'd turn back around eventually, then she could sneak back the way she came. She'd have to go through Nipton, but braving hell was preferable to fighting a deathclaw. Except it wasn't turning around. Then it took a step forward, then another, and any slight hope that came up because of its blindness was sent hurtling back into nothingness. It was huge and terrifying and so eerily silent as it got closer and closer and then it was right in front of her, so near she could hear its breath and see the ridges on its brown skin. Her whole body felt like it could tear itself apart from the tension, from the fear. But the creature still didn't look at her.

The yelp of a coyote sounded down the pass, back the way she came, such a sudden break to the silence that she nearly jumped. The deathclaw's head snapped to attention and it was off, faster than anything Ash had ever seen, towards the unfortunate coyote. And then it was out of sight, and Ash breathed again, shakily, and hurried as quietly as she could through the rest of the pass. On the other side, she broke into a run down the hill, and only slowed to a quick walk once she reached the road to the outpost. Her ribs hurt again, sharp pain with each breath. But at least she was still breathing. It wasn't until she passed beneath the two metal statues that she stopped glancing over her shoulder every few seconds, and her skin finally stopped crawling.

Inside the building was wonderfully cool and dim and the barstool felt somehow reassuring in its solidness. She ordered something strong. Very strong.

The woman seated beside her tipped her hat. "I was wondering when you'd turn up again."

Ash smiled. "Hey, Cass."

* * *

Foxtrot was a pain in the ass to find, but the long walk there kept Boone's head clear. Rex remained silent the entire way, the perfect traveling companion. Once they reached the ranger station, it quickly became clear that the comm. Officer had no clue about the bizarre intel. No surprise there. Still had the other five to check out for clues about the source. He'd continue on to Bravo in the northeast, then south to Alpha, Delta, and Echo. Charlie last. Could swing by Novac after that, to collect a few more things from his room there, if he really was going to stay in New Vegas. Stay with Ash. But for now he had to focus on the present. And in the present it was nearly dark, and Jacobstown was close.

Rex defied expectations by ignoring the mutants. Boone had a hard time not staring, and then not avoiding eye contact. Not like he _hated_ them, and their leader clearly didn't want trouble, but they disturbed him. He had grown up in California hearing tales of the Master and his – its – army and all the horrific things they did. A long, long time ago, but it still made him uneasy, being here, surrounded by _them_. Not the dog, though. Rex dove into the snow, rolling in it, sending the white powder up into the air. Boone was almost tempted to join in. He was cold already anyway and it had been years since he felt slow in his hands. But it'd look odd. Wouldn't want the super mutants to think less of him.

Inside was worse, with the blue-skinned nightkin glaring daggers into his back. Dr. Henry was a breath of fresh air. Boone wondered how a man could live among them like that, all alone, the sole human. Weren't they _dangerous_?

With the information about the dog's brain fresh in his mind, Boone returned to the chill mountain air outside. It smelled cleaner here. The night sky was clearer than he'd ever seen, stars bright against the black. None of that orange glow like Vegas had. He liked it here, despite the giants lumbering around. Didn't like it enough to stay overnight. The doctor could stand it, maybe, but Boone couldn't. Good that they were here, separate. Not that he was racist, no, they weren't so much a race as an abomination, and –

"Oh, there you are, Jimmy."

Boone turned to face the speaker with the grating voice. Big, blue. Was it wearing gardening gloves? He frowned. "What?"

It – she? – stepped forward, arms outstretched. "Don't be shy, dear, give your grandma a hug."

He moved back. Rex was at his side now, panting, coat covered in snow. "I'm not—"

"Oh, don't be silly, dear." Another step closer, her large hands perilously close to his shoulders. And then Rex barked and the nightkin stopped and shook her head, the dark plastic of her goggles glinting in the moonlight. She sounded sad. "I'm sorry. I lose myself sometimes."

"It's… Don't worry about it." Well, this was awkward.

Rex shook himself off and barked again.

The nightkin's attention turned to the dog then, and she smiled. At least, it looked vaguely like a smile. "What a cute puppy. We couldn't bring our Spot to the vault." She bent and patted her knees. "Oh, aren't you sweet, yes you are—"

"Lily, you'd best go to sleep soon." The deep rumble of Marcus's voice. Boone glanced over his shoulder at the mutant. "And don't forget to take your medication."

"Oh, yes, of course. Goodnight, you two. Sleep tight." The nightkin smiled again and waved and walked off.

Marcus took her place. Probably the first time Boone had been happy to see a mutant. "I trust you're enjoying your time here. Thank you for being considerate. All too often, visitors only come to make trouble."

Boone shrugged and adjusted the pack on his shoulder.

"I know you're busy, and you look like you're about to leave, but there's a matter I'd appreciate your assistance with. A few mercenaries outside of town that need to be talked down. Are you interested?"

Boone sighed. Couldn't hurt. "Sure."


	25. Image of a Girl

1) Oh lawdy it's been a while.

2) Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far. I'd love it if you guys reviewed more! I know it can be tough to think of comments/critiques but anything at all is appreciated. Lets me know what's working and what's not working, and gives me more drive to write.

3) Dogs: great? or the _greatest_?

* * *

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: IMAGE OF A GIRL

* * *

A constant breeze cooled the air as Ash walked up the remnants of the pre-war highway, towards the distant lights of New Vegas. Dry grass rustled with each gentle gust and sand drifted from the cracked earth to the asphalt rubble. The round robot from Primm filled her arms, too big to fit in her pack. She hoped bringing it was worthwhile, hoped that Arcade and the Followers could repair it or use it. Not like it was doing much good broken back in Primm, and Ash had no chance of fixing it on her own. Cass didn't know a thing about robotics either. The redhead strode by Ash's side at an easy, slow pace, casual and talkative, an odd change from Boone's silent brooding. Weirder still was seeing Cass absent any form of whiskey.

They had exhausted all major topics of interest by now: Ash with House, the 38, Benny – except for the sex part – and Yes-Man; and Cass with her failed attempt at the caravan business. She'd gotten a handful of correspondence from the Crimson Caravan, she had said, so she wanted to stop by their compound to see what all the fuss was about. With little else left for conversation, Cass honed in on one of her favorite subjects.

"Can't believe you don't have a fuckbuddy locked up in your bedroom. All that stress, I'd _need_ to get laid."

Ash fumbled with a cigarette and Benny's lighter. Her last try at smoking while holding the robot had failed miserably, but she wasn't about to give up. "There aren't that many prospective candidates."

"Isn't Boone still hanging around? You could shack up with him." Cass reached up to adjust her hat, then stopped walking. "Here, let me carry it for a bit. Don't want to keep you from killing yourself."

"Like your whiskey's any better." Ash handed the robot over. Rid of its cumbersome shape, she lit her cigarette and pocketed the silver lighter. The smoke was soothing but not very rich.

"Whatever." Cass settled the robot in her arms and moved forward again, scowling as the cluster of antennae brushed across her chin. "Damn, this thing is awkward. Ten minutes and it's yours again. Smoke up. Anyway, what about that guy we're bringing this to? Arclight or whatever. You said he's smart, and you're into saving peoples' asses, so you _must_ have a thing for doctors."

"Arcade? Yeah, uh, he's… I'm pretty sure he's gay."

"Maybe he likes both." The redhead shrugged. "But if you say so. Still haven't given me a straight answer about Boone."

The word slipped out suddenly, with surprising force. "No."

"Oh, that came out real fast. And do I sense some defensiveness there? So you _like _him. I gotcha." Cass grinned and shifted the robot's weight around. "Secret's safe with me. Still, you don't strike me as the shy type."

"Wouldn't work, trust me." Ash drew in deep on her cigarette and blew the smoke out in a thin stream. "I've got too much on my mind. Plus, guy's got issues."

"Don't they all? I've fucked enough soldiers to know they're _all_ carrying sacks full of emotional baggage. Trust me. What's his deal?"

A few embers fell from the tip of the cigarette as Ash weighed her options. Telling Cass the truth about Boone's wife was out of the question, as was bringing up Bitter Springs. He still hadn't talked about it and throwing around theories felt wrong. But Cass wouldn't stop pressing. No, this called for diversionary measures. "Not like I haven't gotten laid at all since I got to the Strip."

Cass perked up, eyes wide. "Spill it."

"Benny."

"Holy shit." The look on the redhead's face was almost comically stunned. "You fucked the guy that fucking _shot_ you?"

"Yeah." Ash shrugged. "It was a one-night thing. Was trying to get information out of him."

"Bet you got something else out of him, huh?" Cass's elbow connected with Ash's side, gratefully not the bruised one. "You're a fucking slut."

"_Hey_." Ash narrowed her brows and dropped the cigarette to the road, stomping it out with her heel.

"Oh, relax. It's not an insult. Just means you really like sex. I'm a slut, too. Big deal. So? How was it?"

"It was…" She sighed. "It was fucking good. He wasn't even my type, but it was a fun night."

A wide grin extended over Cass's face. "Not your type, huh? Needed more blood and dirt? Maybe a sniper rifle and a red beret?"

"Oh, I swear to…" Ash ran a hand over her forehead. "You're never gonna let it go, are you?"

"Nope."

Out came the pack of cigarettes and the lighter again. "You have fun carrying it all the way back to Vegas, then."

* * *

The fire cracked as another branch fell onto it, driving glowing specks up into the darkness The night air brought with it the soft, constant chirps of insects – small ones, not the giant mantises around Jacobstown. Boone could've made it from there to Bravo during sunlight if he had wanted to, but he hadn't. Instead, he made camp in the hills, close enough to the station to reach it early in the morning. Getting to Bravo at nightfall would've meant spending the night near Bitter Springs and that would _never_ happen again, not after… He shook his head and leaned against the rock behind him and looked up at the stars. Clear and bright out here, like they had been above Jacobstown. He slept there last night, surprising himself by trusting the mutants to not turn on him. And before that, another surprise when he managed to talk the mercenaries out of attacking the village. Maybe it was the beret that did it, that proved he had some sway in the NCR, or maybe he somehow channeled Ash's diplomatic words in that instant. He didn't even remember what he had said exactly, too worked up to really think then. But they had gone away without a fight.

A quiet bark from his side shook Boone from his thoughts. He looked to Rex, who was sitting up now, staring. Boone frowned. "What?"

Another bark.

"Cut it out. You were doing it before and I still don't…" He sighed and rubbed his eyes. He was talking to a _dog_.

Rex changed tactics and whined pitifully.

"_Really_? Christ, what…" No, it couldn't be. He pointed to the beret on his head. "This?"

The dog seemed to nod.

"So that hat thing is serious?"

Rex barked.

"Okay, okay. But only for you." Boone tugged the beret off and held it for a moment, fingers running over the red fabric before carefully folding it and placing it on his pack. "Better?"

Rex responded by laying down, closer this time, head resting on the sniper's thigh.

"Good." He sighed again. "Still talking out loud to a dog."

The dog let out a similar huff of breath, eyes turned up to look at Boone. The orange light from the fire filtered through the casing round the dog's brain, casting odd, intricate shadows. Rex's heat felt strangely comforting. Didn't seem to be any harm in talking.

"Always wanted a dog. Never had the chance to get one."

Rex lifted his head and tilted it to one side.

"My mother was allergic. Didn't have anything against them, but they made her sneeze and her eyes got watery. Couldn't get one after I moved out, since I enlisted right away. Then Carla… She didn't like dogs."

Rex whined.

"Yeah, I know. I never got it either." Boone scratched behind the dog's ear. "She wasn't much for animals. Thought they were dirty. Crude. Never got how she could think like that but still settle with me." He felt himself smile, barely.

The dog settled his head on Boone's leg again.

"Still haven't met anyone like her. Don't think I ever will. She was something. Always knew what to say. Got angry at me sometimes when I couldn't say what I felt. I like to think it was perfect but…" He shook his head and tossed another branch onto the flames. "We were so different. Never saw it like that when we were together, and not after… But, I've been thinking about it a lot lately, the bad parts. Don't know why. But…"

Mind cleared for the time being, Boone rested his head back to admire the stars again. He had just _talked_. A _lot_. To a _dog_. He should've felt like an idiot but he didn't. He felt relaxed, even if he hadn't said anything very important. Or maybe it was important. He was never much good at figuring out that sort of thing.

Boone closed his eyes. Tomorrow would be tough. Bitter Springs was too close for comfort.


	26. Breathless

As always, a big ol' thanks to my readers and a gigantic thanks to my reviewers!

* * *

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: BREATHLESS

* * *

Crosshairs aligned with the crude red paint on the skull helm. Metal grip hot in her hands and butt of the rifle secure against her shoulder, Ash tightened her finger around the trigger. Her prey took steps forward and brushed something off of his shoulder, oblivious to her far-off presence, and she carefully tilted the rifle a fraction of a degree to match the target again. It was heavy, bulky, awkward even though much of its weight was on the ruined ledge. The sun bore down on her back and legs, exposed in her prone position.

She stopped breathing and pulled the trigger.

Sharp, sudden pain hit her shoulder and the rifle jerked up sharply. The hiss she felt on her lips fell silent to the deafening gunshot. Not worth it to realign and search for the body. She massaged her arm and sat up.

"Holy _fuck_, that was loud." Veronica rubbed her ear underneath her hood.

Ash shrugged. "Did I get him?"

"Oh." The scribe lifted the binoculars to her eyes. A moment later and she had an answer. "_Oh_. Shit. Yeah, but he's not really… connected anymore."

"Anyone else down there?"

"Nope, all clear for now." Veronica lowered the binoculars. "No offense, and I don't want you to get some complex about being short, but that gun might be a tiny bit too big for you."

"I know, I know. It's for Boone. Wanted to try it out, that's all. Can I see those?"

Veronica passed the binoculars over. "Do I make a good spotter? I've never done this before."

Ash nodded and looked through the scratched lenses. Sure enough, the Fiend's body no longer held a human shape. The anti-materiel rifle was worth every cap.

"You know, this is kind of a messed up form of stress relief."

No sign of any other Fiends, like Veronica had said. The afternoon sun dragged the buildings' shadows out long over the dirt. Other than a few rats, no life to speak of. Ash blinked. "What?"

"Killing people."

"I'm not stressed." She set the binoculars down and turned to face Veronica.

"Oh, come on, I'm not an idiot. You act all weird when something's bugging you and you smoke like twenty packs a day."

"Twenty?"

"Okay, _slight_ exaggeration. But still, you're taking out whatever it is on some drugged up kids."

"If they were Legionaries, you wouldn't care."

Veronica frowned. "There's a difference."

"Is there?" Ash straightened her posture and surveyed the surrounding wastes. "Arcade told me about a study done a long time ago, in the Old World, to see how loyal people would be to orders. The men who signed up were told to ask questions to someone in another room, and then to shock them if they answered wrong. Almost all of them went with it fully, even when they thought they were killing the person in the other room." She glanced at the scribe. "Arcade explains it better, but…"

"Whoa, whoa. You don't need to throw psychological studies at me." Veronica held up her hands, then rested one on her companion's shoulder. "It's okay, I get it. I just want to be sure you're okay. What are you so worked up about?"

Ash frowned. She must've come off too harsh. But she didn't want to burden Veronica with it, with all the stress. House was growing impatient, no word from the Legion, no sign of Benny, and Boone… "It's nothing, really."

"I could teach you how to cook."

"_What_?"

"You know, knife skills, recipes, methods of preparation. It's great stress relief. And it's delicious!" Veronica grinned.

"I think I'll pass for now." The last thing Ash needed was slipping up and cutting off a finger. She'd never been coordinated with knives. Or domestic matters in general.

"Okay, then, how about… Oh! Maybe a relaxing night out? Good drinks, good friends, good food, more drinks. I know Cass would love it. We could get Arcade in on it, too. I bet he's a riot when he's drunk."

"Maybe." Ash ran a hand over her face. "Okay, yeah. In a couple days." Couldn't be any harm in it. If nothing else, it'd be a welcome distraction.

* * *

Dry grass crunched under Boone's feet and sand dusted up his boots with each soft step. Charlie was quiet. Too quiet, even from yards off, no one patrolling outside, no sounds from within. Nothing, until he noticed the footprints in the dirt, too many and too erratic to be from the Rangers. Someone else had been here, a group, a raiding party, bent on one task. And so close to Novac, so close to _home_. Maybe Vipers or Jackals or even Khans, but that was optimistic. He knew it was worse. Rex sniffed at the ground and followed the trail to the door, ajar an inch. Boone followed, rifle held tight in sweaty palms. Dark inside. All wrong.

He walked in front of the dog and looked down, sliding the pack from his shoulders and setting it against the wall. "Stay."

Rex whined but sat obediently by the bag.

Boone faced the door. He hadn't _needed_ to come here; clear enough already that the head of the Rangers was at fault. Why Hanlon would do it, Boone didn't know, and at the moment he didn't care. He was _here_, and here was _wrong_.

He breathed in deep and nudged the door open with his rifle, expecting an ambush, but nothing came. He stepped inside.

The smell hit him first, thick and terrible and overwhelming, the unmistakable stench of death and decay, of flesh rotting in the desert heat. Then he heard the flies, buzzing incessantly in the stagnant air. He coughed and pulled his shirt up to cover his mouth and nose and didn't breathe but none of that helped. And then his eyes adapted to the dark and he saw them, the two bodies laid out on the floor, surrounded by dried, flaking blood, eyes open wide, staring, clouded, sightless, like they had at Bitter Springs, and _her_, the female Ranger, legs askew, blond hair dirtied, so much like –

Boone jolted back to the doorway, to the blindingly bright sunlight, to the fresh air, clean of death. He dropped his rifle and retched and it spilled out bitter and harsh. Water came to his eyes. He blamed it inwardly on the stench but knew there was more. He'd felt _off_ since Bravo, even though he had forced himself not to look anywhere near Coyote Tail. And then Echo, so close to where he'd last seen _her_. And now this. He braced his hands on his knees and shook his head, then rose and wiped his face. Couldn't leave yet. Had to find out what happened so he could report it, even if it meant his sanity slipping away.

Rex whined beside him. He repeated his command, picked up his rifle, held his breath, and walked inside again.

The flies seemed quieter now, their sound replaced with the heavy thudding of his heart. Papers thrown about on the floor, chairs knocked over. So they'd put up a good fight before being cut down. Radio bashed in. Even if one of them had lived after the attackers left, wouldn't be any way to contact the rest of the world, just like he couldn't now, not until he got to Novac. Two tapes on the desk. He pocketed them – could listen later. Boone flicked the switch on the wall. Nothing. Lights were busted, too. The sun was bright enough for now, but that wouldn't last long. He moved towards the woman, the armor over her stomach ripped with deep knife wounds. She had died slowly, in agony. He couldn't look at her face. She still gripped her sidearm in her pale hand, fingers clenched over the grip. Raiders would've taken it.

Boone shifted closer to her but stopped abruptly when he caught sight of the faint orange glow by her shoulder. Legion tactic, leaving mines under bodies. He swallowed and circled around to the man. Stabs in the armor on his torso, like the woman's, but his throat was slit. He'd died faster. Mine under his right knee, far enough from his neck to make Boone's next action fairly safe, he hoped. He bent and carefully felt around the man's neckline. Tags were gone. Legionaries collected them for fun and gloating. He stood. This was _bad_. Two more bodies in the next room. He passed through the doorway and –

A thin, slight pressure against his shin and the tripwire snapped. He breathed in sharply and closed his eyes. A gun sounded, then an enormously loud blast, so loud he couldn't hear, and in the split second when he felt the heat rising towards him, he silently prayed to a God he wasn't sure he still believed in, _please, make it quick_. But something tugged at his pant leg, hard enough to throw him off balance and force him away from the doorway. His right forearm caught the blast but the pain only lasted a moment, until the back of his head collided with the floor and everything went black.

Something hot and wet moved over his face. And again. He coughed and opened his eyes and Rex was there, staring intently, tongue hanging out. Almost dark now, the fading sunlight barely enough to see by. Boone sat, pushing his weight up with his arms. Pain rushed to the right one, hot and searing, so bad his vision blurred. He cursed and cautioned a glance down. Chunks of skin were missing but whatever wounds might've bled out were sealed by the burns. He stood, leaning against the wall for support, and when he was sure he could walk, he picked up his rifle and stepped outside. Rex followed.

The cool air made his arm hurt less, but it wouldn't last long. Looked even worse out here, under the early evening sky. He slumped down by his pack, fishing out a bottle of water. The lukewarm liquid felt scalding but he had to get it clean. Next came picking the flecks of material out, then more water, then the jab of a stimpack, followed by merciful numbness. His breath shook. His fingers grazed something on his pant leg, holes, tooth marks. He looked at Rex, who was standing nearby, panting, watching.

His voice came out cracked, dry. "You pulled me down?"

Rex stepped closer and settled to the ground, resting his head against Boone's thigh.

Boone ran his fingers through the fur and leaned back, closing his eyes. "Good dog."


	27. Tequila

Omigod the site finally stopped being a dick.

Thank you, dear readers and reviewers. Much love!

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CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: TEQUILA

* * *

The thick fabric held the heat at bay, the shade preventing the interior of the tent from sizzling. Arcade sat on one of the worn metal chairs, doctor's coat off for the time being. Ash's jacket was draped over the back of another chair and she lounged on a cot a few feet away. Her ribs were healing up nicely, he had said, though that didn't keep him from recommending more rest. In turn, she opted out of telling him exactly what she'd been up to lately. He'd only worry more.

Arcade sipped from the bottle of water in his hand – he never ceased to tout the benefits of hydration – and passed it over to her. "And no news about Benny?"

Ash accepted the gift and gulped it down, shaking her head. The water was about as hot as the air. All those ice-cold drinks up in the 38 were spoiling her. "Nothing at all. It's frustrating."

"I can imagine it would be. Still, I have to commend you for staying involved. Most wastelanders would've robbed the Lucky 38 dry and left."

"And leave behind a place like that? Hell no, it's amazing in there." She paused to wipe her mouth. "Once you get used to the robots, anyway. But there's no way I'd ditch all that carpet and air conditioning."

He eyed her for a moment before speaking. "Is that what you tell them, too? Or do they know how concerned you are?"

She frowned and sat up. "Sort of. Veronica seems neutral about it as long as the Legion's not involved, but I haven't said much to Cass and Boone. She knows the NCR's stretched thin but she still loves them, and he… well, he hasn't been around to talk to lately. Doubt he'd appreciate my views on the situation." Of course he wouldn't, not if he knew she wanted to take action.

"For what it's worth, know that you have my support. You're on the right path."

"Thanks." Ash smiled. "I've been meaning to ask if you'd like to crash at the 38 sometime. It'd be great to have you there. There's a lot of room, and I can at least guarantee you a couch to sleep on and good food to eat."

He shifted in his chair. "I'm not sure if I could _move_ there. All of my research is –"

"Here, I know. I'm not saying a permanent move, not unless you'd want to, but…" She glanced around the tent, trying to think of how to word it. "I've been thinking, since that plan to bug House's system didn't work out so great, the next best thing would be having someone on the inside. The robots won't let anyone but me onto the floor with House but there are terminals on other floors. Worth it to try, at least. And hell, it might even be fun to have you around."

"Fun?" He rubbed his chin. "That doesn't sound like me at all. I suppose spending a few nights there couldn't hurt."

"Beats sleeping on a cot, right?" She grinned. "How about you start tonight? We're going out to Gomorrah for drinks later. You should come along."

"Socializing? Drinking? Clearly you have me mixed up with someone else. I prefer spending my nights tending to drunken gamblers, not being among them having a so-called good time." How Arcade managed to keep such a straight face during his self-deprecating routines, she could never tell. "But if you insist."

"Great! Cass and Veronica are preparing as we speak. Veronica wanted a dress real bad and they said they'd pick up something new for me to wear."

"You're giving those two free reign over your outfit? You must be insane." He rose from his seat and neatened the front of his gray shirt. "I'll drop by the 38 later. You'll have to give me the grand tour."

Ash followed suit, standing and stretching her arms above her head to wake her limbs up. "Good. See you then."

The doctor pushed aside the tent flap and walked out, and in his wake came a rush of hot air from outside. Then the fabric closed again and she was left in the shade once more. She rubbed her eyes and picked her jacket from the back of its chair. The leather was so worn now – not that it was new when she bought it all the way back in Goodsprings, not by any means. Faded now, more gray than black, with rough patches where she had skidded on the ground or against a wall, the elbows scuffed from resting to prop up a rifle, tears here and there from an assortment of weapons. Ash pulled it on, uncomfortably warm but protected from the sun, which blinded her for a moment when she left the safety of the tent. Hot like a furnace, like the air itself could boil away.

* * *

He hadn't slept.

Boone had stopped in Novac the night before, to warn the town, to get his arm tended to, and he stayed in his old room, not because he had wanted to but because he couldn't get into Ash's – he tried – and he hadn't eaten and he hadn't slept. The painkillers from the doctor hadn't done a damn thing except make him dizzy on his feet, so he spent the whole night in his old bed, _their_ old bed, staring at the ceiling. At the cracks.

He felt like dying.

Andy told him to go back to Vegas and take it easy, that he'd radio for help and get everything checked out. The ranger outranked Boone so he followed the orders and it wasn't until he was halfway to Vegas that he remembered that ranks didn't matter anymore, that he wasn't serving, that he should've stayed in Novac and –

And _what_? Gotten in the way? He couldn't shoot well, not with his arm wrapped and in agony and his thoughts as dark as ever. No, he couldn't have done any good in Novac, so he had fought the urge to turn around and go back the way he came, and now the air was cool and clean and the elevator doors opened up to the suite.

Too much _noise_. The ding of the elevator was followed by the sound of voices, and then Rex barked beside him and bolted forward. His head hurt and this made it worse but he stepped out behind the dog, whose tail was wagging frantically amidst Veronica – in a dress? – and the redhead from the NCR outpost and the doctor from the Followers. They smiled and laughed at Rex and then looked to him and their expressions waned. Silence for a moment and then he opened his mouth to speak.

Veronica beat him to it. "No offense, Boone, but you look like hell."

He ignored her. "Where's Ash?" His voice came out cracked. He couldn't remember the last drink of water he'd had.

Cass crossed her arms over her chest. "Nice to see you, too, Boone."

Veronica was more useful and pointed to the bathroom. He dropped his pack on the floor with a thud and went through the doorway, despite his state prepared to give a detailed report of Hanlon's activities and the situation at Charlie – _situation_, he hated that word, they'd all used it to talk about Bitter Springs – but she looked so different and _unexpected_ fixing her hair in the mirror that he simply stood and waited for her to turn around. She did and she was… she was gorgeous, eyes bright, hair in black waves over her shoulders left bare by a dark shirt, cut like one of those low-backed pre-war dresses that Carla had never cared for and he couldn't remember the right name of, but as a top without a skirt to it, and pants that were _clean_, so foreign for her, and a smile on her flush lips, and for one desperate moment he wanted nothing more than to fall into her arms and feel her. But that was the exhaustion talking, so he closed his eyes and opened them again.

She wasn't smiling now. "Christ, Boone, you look like shit."

He swallowed. He hadn't even bothered to bathe in Novac, or change clothes, or anything. He hadn't cared then. Didn't matter now.

Ash frowned. Had he said that out loud? "What happened?"

"Hanlon, he's been –"

"No, I mean to you." Her eyes darted over him and locked on his arm, which she stepped forward to take in her hands, tugging it up gently for better light. "_Jesus_, Boone, your arm."

He tried not to wince. "It's nothing."

"Bullshit." She looked back up to him. "You need these bandages changed. You're bleeding through them."

He looked down. "Oh." So he was. "Charlie. The station near Novac. Legion raided it, left traps behind."

"Shit." She dropped his arm then her fingers were on his face, checking for more damage. It felt nice. "But you're okay otherwise?"

"Yeah." He shrugged. The worry in her eyes told him she didn't believe it. "But Hanlon, he's been –"

"Don't." She tapped a fingertip against his lips, her touch soft against the chapped skin. Then her hands were at her side, and he couldn't help but to miss them. "You can tell me later. We're going out tonight. I want you to come with us."

"But –"

"Wash up, change, I'll get Arcade to look at your arm. Save the serious stuff for later, okay?" Her smile looked forced. "You look like you could use a drink."

A few hours and many drinks later, the group had situated themselves in a booth in Gomorrah. Boone hadn't gotten to shave but he was considerably less dirty and bloody and, with the aid of beer, less worried. Not that he was carefree, no, that was impossible for him, but he was at least content for the time being, with Rex curled at his feet under the table and Veronica to his left drunkenly eyeing a pretty blonde over at the bar. If nothing else, it was a distraction from the crushing depression that was due to rear its head again once he sobered. Normally he wasn't one for that kind of diversion but he was too tired to give a fight.

Veronica was the first to call it quits – she didn't want to drink so much that she'd puke all over her dress, she said. Cass reluctantly tore herself away from her whiskey to walk the scribe back, and Arcade agreed to join them, because in his words it was the gentlemanly thing to do. Then only Ash and Boone and Rex remained, but he wasn't sure for how long, because one minute he was nursing a lukewarm bottle of beer in his hand and the next he felt her fingers over his and she smiled and pulled him through the casino, waving at people as they went – how did she know them all? – and then they were outside.

The night air was cold and wonderful. Not many people in the streets so late. He closed his eyes and breathed in deep, and he didn't realize her hand was still on his until she let it go and the warmth disappeared. Her voice was soothing, nothing like Carla's but still – He opened his eyes.

_Right_. She was talking to him. "—so give me all the details."

He rubbed his eyes. "What?"

Ash frowned. "You're not that drunk, are you? I want to hear about Hanlon and the station."

The feel-good tipsiness abruptly ended and irritation set in at her curiosity. Why did she want to know _now_? Even Rex whined by his side at the sudden change. "I'm fine."

"Sorry, mood-killer, I know. I wanted them to have a good time, without having to worry about…" She trailed off and gestured to the city. "About everything. If you want to wait, you can tell me in the morning."

"No." He breathed in and collected his thoughts. "Everything points to Hanlon at Camp Golf. He's been giving false intel."

"Shit." She fished a pack of cigarettes from her pocket. One went to her mouth, another into his hand. "But why?"

"No idea." He tucked the cigarette between his lips.

"Guess we should stop in for a chat with him soon." The pack disappeared and that silver lighter came out. She reached up to flick the lighter under his first, then hers. The orange flame lit up her face for a second. She looked exhausted. "And the station?"

He closed his eyes and drew the smoke in deep. "Legion raided it. Killed everyone. Well, everyone but the woman they took." He did everything to keep from thinking about _her_ but it was barely worth it to try.

"Fucking barbarians." The sudden harshness in her tone made him look at her again. Concern spread over her face when their eyes met. "That must've been hard for you."

Boone shrugged. He wasn't about to discuss his _feelings_.

"Don't try to be such a hardass." A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "I'm glad you're okay."

_Was_ he okay? The anguish he'd gone through at Charlie and Novac had turned to numbness, from what he could tell. It was hard to consider. He was tired. He hadn't slept.

"And I'm glad you're back here." She sounded quieter. "I missed you."

He swallowed. He had, too, but he couldn't say it. He settled for what the thought was the next best thing. "You did?"

"Heh, yeah. Guess I'm a softy." She dropped her cigarette and stomped it out.

He shrugged and did the same.

Then her hand was resting on his chest, right where his dogtags hung under his shirt, and her blue eyes were wide and sad. "I wish it was different. I wish we'd met some other time, when maybe…" She bit her lip. "I wish it was different."

He opened his mouth to respond, though he wasn't sure what with. Rex saved him the trouble by growling. Ash's hand dropped away and the heat went with it, and they both turned to look at the man walking towards them. Well-dressed in a brown suit but somehow out of place. Boone straightened up to his full height. The man seemed _wrong_.

He stopped a few feet from them, attention fully on Ash. "Ashley Silveira?"

Her voice was strong now. "Can we help you?"

The man nodded and reached into his jacket. "I come bearing gifts from Caesar."


End file.
